


Heartless

by unluckyloki



Category: Red Robin (Comics), Superboy (Comics), Young Justice (Comics)
Genre: Bart Allen is a Bard, Bart the bard is going to be a supportive best friend to Kon, Bart: oh!!! that's the guy my friend is into!!! nice!!!, Cassie Sandsmark is a Barbarian, Conner Kent is a Paladin, Emotional Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by The Witcher, Kon who is crushing on Tim hard, Kon-El is a prince of Krypton, M/M, Mentions of Casual Sex, Other, Pining, Pining Kon-El|Conner Kent, Ra's al Ghul is a Creep, Slow Burn, Tim Drake is Stray, Tim Drake is a Rogue, Tim: why is it so loud and enthusiastic please make it stop, Witcher AU, background batcat, instead of the relatioship Yennifer and Jaskier have in the series, multiple minor or background relationships, so it's kinda like, the Dragon scene is from the Witcher, this is the fic that was first named as "the medieval fantasy au inspired by the witcher", yes I watched the witcher and got nostalgic for the books
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:47:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 30,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23197321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unluckyloki/pseuds/unluckyloki
Summary: Prince Kon-El of Krypton finds out that he is a Child of Magic, a person born through magic alone, in a way unnatural and forbidden in their kingdom, when an uprising starts. The people of the kingdom demand his execution, and the King has no other way but to listen to them.When the prince waits in his cell for the last morning of his life to come, a figure appears at his window.Stray, a legendary thief, has been paid to rescue him, and together they embark on a journey to Stray's mysterious employer.And that's only the start.
Relationships: Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent
Comments: 132
Kudos: 284





	1. Intro

**Author's Note:**

> blame the 'And yet, here we are' bathtub scene from the Witcher, because that was the most romantic shit I've ever seen in my life (even though I don't really ship Geralt and Jaskier, but the TENDERNESS). This scene has stuck in my head, and, well, here we are...
> 
> my friend who knows some stuff about DND described the relationship between Tim and Kon as rogue x paladin, just so you'd know what y'all getting into
> 
> There's also fan art by my fantastic friend [heatherica45 on tumblr!](https://heatherica45.tumblr.com/post/622190013737795585/designs-for-the-core-four-of-the-original-young)

✦ intro ✦

This is the worst week in prince Kon's life and it is only Tuesday.

Tuesday, that started with him waking up in a prison cell of his own castle. Or, rather, King Kal's castle. 

It's been a week since the whole kingdom found out that he was a 'child of magic' - conceived without a mother, through the magic alone, unnatural and completely illegal in the Kingdom of Krypton.

It would've been _nice_ if Kon didn't find that out through the rumors, just like the whole kingdom did - he would've appreciated Kal _not lying_ . Maybe, that way he would've been able to do something else but gape when the magic council was called to examine his blood and determine if he _is_ indeed what people say he is.

Kon didn't know who started the rumors, didn't know who the sorcerer that mixed their blood with Kal's was, but he would've appreciated knowing _what_ he was before the citizens of the kingdom raised a rebellion, demanding the forbidden 'child of magic' be executed.

That's how Kon, a former prince, has been stripped off his titles, taken to the dungeon and away from the comfort of his room in the palace, and paraded through the raging crowd, like a common criminal.

He was spat at. Humiliated. Cursed.

He held his head high.

He did so even when Kal turned away, hiding his face, refusing to meet Kon's eyes or even _listen_.

He broke down only when he was back in the cell - whimpering, choking on bitter tears.

Wishing for somebody, _anybody_ to come. 

***

It’s the middle of the night and the moon shines brightly, when a figure appears at the small window high up on the prison cell's wall.

Kon knows someone's there because the light of the moon flickers and disappears for a moment. The prince pretends to stay asleep, wondering who can that be. Not one of the commoners who came to throw more rotten fruit at him, for sure - after all, the prison wall is over a sheer cliff, overlooking an ocean.

“Don’t pretend to be asleep,” he hears a chuckle. “I know very well that you’re _not_.”

The voice that's coming from the shadows is smooth like honey. Kon sits up on the straw mattress on the floor and looks up.

There's a gloved hand holding on to the bars in the small window.

“How did you climb that wall?” Kon asks.

The person on the outside of the cell laughs.

"Seriously? How did I climb the wall is more important of a question than _who_ I am?" the voice says, sounding mocking.

Kon blinks, hoping that his confusion is not visible in the darkness.

"Um. Actually - _Yes_. That wall is made of solid stone and it's very high, of course I'd be surprised someone could climb it!" Kon says, frustrated. 

Then, he realizes something.

"Wait! Why am I even arguing with you?! Who are you? And what do you want?"

"That's a better question, Your Highness," the shadow outside of the window says with an obvious grin in it's voice. "I've been hired to save you and no, I won't answer any more questions until we are safely out of the castle. We've already wasted too much time. Here's the key to your cell."

Something metal clings, being thrown to the floor.

"The guards will fall asleep in five minutes or so. You need to open the cell and walk down the corridor to the guard's quarters. To the left of their door, there's a manhole in the ground, if you move the lid it'll lead you to this tunnel-"

"A tunnel that a manhole leads to? Do you mean a _sewer_?!"

"Ugh. _Yes_ , that's exactly what I mean. So, as soon as you're there…"

"I'm not going into a sewer, I'm a _prince_!"

" _Your Highness_ , " the voice says with obvious irritation, "you're going to be a _dead_ prince _tomorrow_ , if you don't listen to me _now_."

That shakes Kon a little, reminding him that the execution _is_ tomorrow.

But, he's still a prince. He'll go with his head held high, even if it's to the sewer.

"Okay," he starts, "on one condition-"

There's a loud metal clang from the corridor outside of his cell that effectively cuts off what he had to say.

"I guess that's the guards," the voice outside of the window contemplates. "It's time to go, Highness. Just follow the tunnel, it'll lead you outside of the castle walls. I'll be waiting for you with the horses. See ya!"

The shadow behind the window disappears and Kon is left alone with his thoughts. He wonders briefly if he should stay, say no to this complete stranger who didn't say much except that he's been hired to help him escape. Who might have wanted to save Kon? And, more importantly - what if this is a trap?

There's not much time and, frankly, not many options. He either dies tomorrow or runs now, never to see his kingdom again. And even if this _is_ a trap, it’s not like dying on the main square of the city he used to call home is any better.

He finds the key on the floor and unlocks the door to his cell, expecting the guards to come running any moment. He's worried for nothing, because the guards are all sleeping soundly on the floor, one of the two even snoring lightly.

Kon steps over them and follows the directions the stranger from behind his window gave him, trying not to think too much about how dangerous and stupid that might be. He almost backs out of it altogether when the stench from the manhole hits his nose, but powers through it and forces himself to jump in.

The sewers are a disgusting place and he almost retches a few times, but forces himself to go on, following the tunnel's curves and turns. It's a long trek that feels even longer, only the noise of running water accompanying him on the way.

Kon expects to be followed, expects the escape plan to fail any moment now, and it sets him on edge no less than the fact that he's knee-deep in feces from all over the palace. 

As time passes, he feels more and more like he's been wandering the tunnel for days, weeks even, that it'll never end, feels that his life is now confined to the foul-smelling walls of the tunnel.

That's when the tunnel ends.

Kon emerges from the tunnel entrance, and nearly falls over the rocks that litter the floor of a small river where the stream of the castle sewers flow into.

The day is just starting, the sun going up, coloring the sky in pastel shades of pink and blue.

"Well, that was rather anticlimactic," Kon breathes out. 

Someone chuckles behind him and he turns to see a young man holding two horses by the bridle. The man is of a slim build and shorter than Kon, his costume - skin-tight leather pants and a jacket with a hood with bits of leather sticking out to mimic a cat's ears and goggles with dark-brown glass, which he takes off to reveal a handsome young face.

"So," the man before the prince says, "I'm Stray, I'm a thief and I have been paid to steal you from Krypton and bring you to Metropolis. Any more questions?"

Kon gapes.

"What," Stray laughs, "сat got your tongue?"

Kon knows that face, would recognize it anywhere, even after years…

"You're beautiful," Kon blurts out and slaps a hand over his mouth the exact next moment, as soon as his brain realizes what he's just said.

The other man starts laughing and doesn't stop even when he's pushing the reigns of one of the horses into the prince's hand. 

"Come on, let's go, kid," Stray says, after his laughing fit had subdued a little.

"Hey! Don't call me 'kid', I'm the same age as you!" Kon protests, stomping his feet. 

"Are you sure?" Stray grins and, in one smooth motion, leaps up onto his horse's back and urges it forward.

Kon has nothing left but to follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> update: there's fanart now!!!   
> [thank you halloweeneva!](https://halloweeneva.tumblr.com/post/618014356632944640/first-bit-of-fan-art-on-my-new-tablet-its-not)


	2. One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They share a room in an inn.  
> No, there's actually 2 beds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this and the previous one used to be one chapter, but I decided to divide them, so I felt bad for not posting this one
> 
> the next update ain't gonna be as soon as this one 😅

✦ 1 ✦

Stray takes him through what he calls a shortcut, following the dusty trail of barely used roads. They turn so many times Kon's not sure anymore where they are, and by the time an inn shows up, their horses are completely exhausted.

"We're going to wait out in here, to make sure that we weren't followed," Stray explains. "We're at the edge of Krypton, entering Gotham territory, and no Kryptonian patrol will follow us there, if they know what’s good for them. I know the innkeeper, he'll get us a room - preferably with a bath, because you _desperately_ need it."

"Hey!" Kon yelps, offended, "you were the one who made me go through the severs!"

Stray grins instead of answering, and pushes at the entrance door.

The inn is quite populated, but not too full. It’s getting dark outside, and, with darkness, people start gathering around the bar, ordering drinks and starting up conversations. There’s a bard in the middle of the room, playing a cheery tune. It’s maybe a common sight for most people, but Kon has never been to an inn before, so he loses Stray in the crowd while staring at it all.

When he finds him again, Stray is holding a key in his gloved hand. He beckons Kon closer and leads them to a room in the attic.

Stray throws his things on one of the beds like he owns it, and Kon realizes that he has no things on him at all - nothing left from home, nothing to indicate that he's lived in the palace, except of the dirty silk undershirt and grey pants covered in sewer water. 

A maid knocks on the door when the thoughts in Kon's head are at their most desperate. The woman brings two buckets of water to fill in the bath that’s taking up a quarter of the small room. Some time after the woman leaves, Kon feels Stray staring at him.

“What?” Kon asks, sharply.

“You’ve been standing there for the last five minutes. Unmoving and unblinking.”

Kon feels blush creep up to his cheeks.

“Just thinking,” he replies, turning away.

Stray’s already taken off his gloves, vest and boots and is lounging on the bed in just his long undershirt and soft cotton shorts he changed into. His strong legs are up on the headboard, up for the show. Kon thinks that if the guy is so easy with stripping, there’s nothing stopping Kon from it, too.

He still turns away to do it, and climbs in the bath hastily, without grace.

When he half-turns to see what Stray’s doing, he sees that Stray is watching him.

“You looked surprised, back at the bar,” Stray starts conversationally.

“I’ve never been to a place like this,'' Kon shrugs.

Stray sputters and nearly falls off his bed.

“You've never been to a bar?? You're 20!”

The prince tries not to be offended.

“So, you _do_ know how old I am, huh?” Kon quips. 

Stray falls back onto the pillows and smiles a self-satisfactory smile.

“Of course I do. I'm always ready and I always find out all of the information on the target.”

And here Kon though… 

“You’re good at this. Stealing. I’ve heard about Stray before, you’re legendary.”

Stray hums in agreement, sounding satisfied with the praise. 

“But you still haven't told me who paid you to save me,” Kon adds casually.

There's a myriad of emotions that passes quickly through Stray's face, ending up with something that almost makes Kon believe that the other man is impressed. 

“That was smooth,” Stray allows, “You're not as simple as you look, Your Highness.”

The prince chooses to ignore the insulting compliment, biting down on a snarky reply. What he wants to know is more important than his temper, and that's, ironically enough, one of the things Kal taught him - to bear and bow your head, when the goal is worth it. 

Stray sits up on the bed, his movements gracious and fluid, and looks Kon straight in the eye. 

“The person who commissioned me,'' Stray says, all playfulness forgotten, "is your father." 

Kon looks up so fast he's sure that if he was standing, he would have hit the low ceiling of the room. 

There's feelings battling in his heart - wonder, shame, relief.

“Kal wanted you to save me?” Kon repeats happily.

Stray frowns. 

“'What? Oh, you misunderstood. It's not the king, it's your other father.”

The world stops for Kon in that moment. He stares at Stray for a long time. When he finally manages to form words, they come out jumbled. 

''W- W-what do you- what do you mean, my other father?"

"It's about all of that business with Child of magic which, I am sure, you are more than familiar with, now. So, bla-bla, you're one, which means you weren't naturally born of a father and mother, yada yada, congrats. Well, but even for a magically born child, it takes two to make it. So you have one parent you already knew about - really, I have no idea why the King would even try to pretend he's not your father, you two look almost identical - and now you're going to meet your second father.”

Kon’s thoughts are trying to choke him, but he gulps heavily and tries to concentrate on his hands, his vision swimming.

“What. What is he like?”

“Not noble-born, but very rich. I wouldn’t say he’s a scientist, but he dabbles a little everywhere. I am not at liberty to discuss who he is yet, this will ensure my employer’s anonymity, in case of an emergency, like if we’re caught and you’ll decide to spill the beans.”

When, after a considerable long silence, Kon looks up, Stray looks at him with something close to pity.

“Don’t feel sorry for yourself, Your Highness. Your father is _loaded_. You would not want for anything. He has paid me a considerable sum to get you out of Krypton, as soon as the unrest in your kingdom started. I'm sure he'll do anything for you. Isn’t it what anyone would want?”

" _I_ didn't want _any_ of this!" Kon all but yells, hitting the bath.

It only ends up in him splashing the water everywhere, and he looks down, instantly feeling ashamed of his outburst, remembering all of the lectures on emotions and how he should have better control over them. 

Then, a sudden movement makes him look up. At some point that Kon totally missed, Stray's gotten up from his bed and kneeled down in front of the bath, his hands on the side of the bathtub.

“And yet,” Stray says, his voice unexpectedly soft, “here we are.”

Stray leans in, his face an arm length away from Kon's. The prince looks at him, startled for some reason by their closeness. The thief's eyes are dark, black and deep, like a starless sky during the darkest and most hopeless night. Stray’s eyelashes are long and his skin is perfectly smooth, and his lips are pink and they look so soft, so tempting. Kon knows he’s staring, but he can’t stop.

A knock from the door helps with that, startling Kon back, and Stray takes his hands away.

“You gotta suck it up, Your Highness,” Stray laughs the next moment, all of the seriousness forgotten. “And finish your damn bath.”

While Stray goes to the door, the prince finishes washing up and gets out of the bath, toweling off. Stray leans on the doorframe and thus effectively blocks the view of the room to the person he’s talking to. Kon can’t see him, either, but he can hear the smile in Stray’s voice, how happy he is to see that person.

“Thank you, Connor,” Stray says and that name sounds like honey in his mouth, like nothing he’s called Kon before, and it makes the prince's mood sour even more. “I’ll be with you in a minute.”

As soon as the door closes, Stray tosses something towards Kon. Years of training with the knights at the court kick in, and Kon catches what turns out to be a pile of clothes.

“That’s a change of clothes for you,” Stray explains, even though Kon’s already half-through putting on the pants. “Not only because yours are dirty beyond help, but also because they are even more obviously royal than your accent.”

“Wha- I don’t have an accent!”

Stray laughs.

“You _so_ do, Your Highness. We’ll work on it tomorrow. For now, change and eat the food left for you on the table, and then rest. We leave at dawn.”

Kon’s finally managed to get through the shirt - _linen_ , not _silk_ as he’s used to - and he turns his head just in time to see Stray, still in the short shorts and an untucked shirt, going through the door.

“What about you?” Kon asks loudly.

Stray stops and turns to him.

“Don’t wait for me,” Stray almost purrs, his eyes hooded, a mischievous smile on his lips.

The next moment, the door closes, and Kon is left alone in the room.


	3. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let's play a game 'who can find the clues referring to canon that I've hidden here'
> 
> the second half of this is un-beta'd, and I am very sorry that you have to read it like that, but I have finally finished something during this hellish month of quarantine and I NEED to put it out for the world to see, to feel better about myself
> 
> also I'm very tired and will go back to check it tomorrow

✦ 2 ✦

Stray stays true to his words and creeps back to the room a little bit before dawn. Kon notices him only because he can't sleep and sees the door open and close.

Stray wakes him when the first beams of sunshine appear at the horizon and they get dressed and gather their things in silence. 

At the inn's stable, their horses are clean and well-rested, ready for the next part of their journey. 

And, at the door, a young man is waiting.

He’s blond and his skin is much darker than Kon’s, but they look to be around the same build. The man is holding a cup in his hand, steam drifting out of it, and Kon almost suspects sorcery, because of how fast Stray rushes to the cup, taking it from the man’s hands. Stray hums happily after taking a sip of the drink.

“I knew you’d need this,” the man laughs, and then turns to Kon to say, “It’s one of the certain ways to make him happy!”

‘One of the ways’ implies he knows other ones, too.

‘To make him happy’ makes him sound like he’s an expert on Stray’s happiness, like he has any right....

The man’s voice is nice, and Stray and him share a private smile of two people who have known each other for years, and Kon hates it completely and absolutely.

He does not answer the blond man and turns to his horse, leading it outside, trying not to look at Stray and the other man.

"Don't mind him, Connor," Stray purrs. "He's just feeling moody today."

Kon doesn't catch the man's answer, because he is actively ignoring him and Stray.

What did Stray find in him, anyway? 

What does he have that Kon doesn't? 

Is that because Connor is _blond_?

Stray catches up with him five minutes later, when Kon's horse has already started galloping.

"What the hell?" Stray yells, as soon as his horse draws up to the prince's. "Why did you leave without me?!" 

"Got tired of waiting for you," Kon yells over the wind. "I'm a prince, as you like to remind me, and princes don't ever wait for stuff!"

Stray speeds his horse up and then turns it mid-way to block Kon's path - dirt, rocks and grass flying. Kon has to pull at the reins and it makes his horse neigh loudly, rearing up, so he has to squeeze the sides of his horse tightly with his legs, to stay in the saddle. 

“What is wrong with you?” Kon yells, when his horse has calmed down a little.

Stray looks positively _pissed_.

“You’re asking _me_? You’re the one who ran off as soon as I turned away!"

"Maybe you should pay more attention to me, then!" Kon says and immediately bites his tongue.

He’s lucky that Stray doesn’t see anything weird in his statement, because the thief does look guilty, for a moment.

Stray takes a deep breath, as if to calm himself, and then speaks to Kon is a low, composed voice.

“Do you even know where you were going? Is there any place you could go to?”

Kon briefly thinks back to the farm and Ma and Pa, who’d raised him from birth and to the time he was twelve, but then shakes his head. It’s still too close to Krypton. It’d still put them in danger.

“Not really,” Kon admits, his voice mournful.

Stray takes another deep breath.

“Okay. So, how about you stick with me? Go to at least meet your father? See what he’s like, maybe you’d like it there?”

Kon’s just about starting to cool off, and his outburst finally becomes apparent to him, in it’s absolutely shameless, emotional glory. Guilt comes as soon as he realizes it, nearly choking him.

He’s just behaved unbelievably stupid, over-emotional, putting himself first and not thinking about others, just like he’d always been told not to do.

What must Stray think of him now?

Kon swallows thickly and starts:

"I must apologize for my emotional behavior-"

"Woah, woah, woah, stop!" Stray says, fast. He looks confused. " _That’s_ what you’re apologizing for?!" 

“I-?” Kon starts, and it sounds like a question. “Isn’t this what you want?”

There’s a _lot_ going on in Stray’s eyes, but, them being so dark, Kon can’t tell what’s really hidden in their depths. It passes fast, and Stray crosses his hands over his chest.

“Let’s get this straight, Your Highness,” the thief says, cocking his hip. “The only thing I want from you is to get you to Metropolis and to claim the reward from your father. As long as this one tiny term of the agreement is honored, you can do whatever you want. Hell, you can even ride and yell, as _emotionally_ as your heart desires, I don’t care and I ain’t gonna stop you - as long as it’s in the Metropolis’ direction. Got it?”

“Um, yeah.”

“And if you don’t listen to me, I’ll tie you up and drag you to Metropolis like that,” Stray adds with a scary smile, and then winks at the prince, “if that’s your thing.”

Kon splutters, unable to form a coherent answer. Stray smiles predatorily, looking satisfied with himself and the fact that Kon’s just lost his ability to speak.

“And, besides - we need to go in the opposite direction.”

Kon looks around, at the field they’ve stopped at. He knows his face is burning, and all that he finds in himself to say is:

“… Oh.”

***

It takes Kon a long time to regain his composure and start talking to Stray again. When he finally does that, they’ve already covered a few miles, their horses cantering steadily.

“So,” Kon clears his throat, fake nonchalance apparent even to him, “my second father lives in Metropolis?”

Stray takes a long, calculating look at him before answering.

“Yes.”

”Then why are we going through Gotham?”

Stray smiles, a small and satisfied smile that he uses when Kon gets something right, and all inside of Kon feels warm because of it.

“They do teach you geography in that big pompous palace of yours, huh?” Stray hums instead of an answer. 

Kon waits a bit, but the thief stays silent.

“You still didn’t answer my question,” Kon insists.

“We’re going though Gotham to throw any possible pursuers off the trail,” Stray explains finally. “Yes, it’ll make our journey twice as long, but it’ll be safer. Even though now I’m starting to doubt my caution - it’s been _a whole day_ and we’re still to see a patrol anywhere near. In Gotham, there would be guards at our trail _immediately_ , every tavern would’ve been checked. This is honestly embarrassing, how are your towns not _riddled_ with crime?” 

Stray’s voice is so passionate, there’s a frown on his pretty face, his nose drawn up and wrinkled in a show of disgust, and Kon can’t take his eyes off him.

“You couldn’t be more obviously from Gotham even if you tried,” Kon says, fondness slipping into his voice.

Stray turns his head to him so fast it almost looks predatory.

“Why would you say that?” he asks with suspicion.

Kon panics for a moment, but hopes that he hides it well.

“Are you seriously asking this question?” he laughs. “Only Gothamites bitch so much about Krypton not being militarized enough.”

Stray looks more confused than suspicious now.

“I’m not from anywhere anymore,” he says finally, his eyebrows furrowed. “I haven’t been, for a while.”

“Well, I guess the Gotham part stuck anyway. Or maybe you got it from someone?”

“I haven’t had much of _someone_ around, either,” Stray says, his voice bitter. 

A heavy silence falls between them after that, only the sound of their horses’ hooves beating the ground with every step they’re taking.

“Well, at least tell me what to call you?” Kon tries. “When we’re in a town next time and I need to _discretely_ , of course, address you?”

“Call me Alvin,” Stray says, distractedly.

Kon wants to call bullshit, but holds his tongue again.

Stray isn’t even looking at him, instead viewing the bland and boring fields in front of them.

“Oh,” the prince says with fake nonchalance instead, “so you won't even trust me with your real name?”

That makes Stray turn back to face him.

“Why do you think this isn't my real name?”

”There's no way I’ll believe it's your real name. It’s an ugly name. You don’t look like Alvin. You look like a T-” he looks at Stray to see the thief wide-eyed and taut, so Kon finishes with, “like a Tom. That’s a better name.”

Stray seems to calm down at that, it even seems to Kon that what he’s seeing is like when a bird, after ruffling its feathers, settles back down. Kon’s not sure why his brain gives him the image of a bird and not a cat, which is all over Stray’s aesthetics.

“Oh, less ugly, then?” Stray smiles and then shakes his head. “You’re weird, Your Highness.”

“Weird in a good way, right?” Kon asks Stray, but the other man stays silent. “Right?!”

He doesn’t say anything else and Kon feels like he has to pry every word out of him, like he has to nag him on to make Stray notice him, and that makes his blood boil.

“Alvin is **still** a stupid name,” Kon says, turning away from Stray in an act of defiance. 

Stray laughs, and it’s melodic and sweet, which makes Kon turn to him, just in time to catch Stray smiling so much that his eyes are closed, like a content cat’s.

“It's the only one you’re gonna get!” Stray laughs and spurs his horse.

Kon’s tired of chasing after him, but he does anyway.

***

The closer they are to Gotham, the thicker the woods become. The thicker the woods are, the darker it gets.

Without even noticing it, Kon and Stray stir their horses closer as they ride.

“Is this Gotham already?” Kon asks, when their calves brush.

“Not really. It’s worse.”

It feels to Kon that talking to Stray sometimes was like pulling teeth.

“What is it, then?”

“The No Man's Land. Unoccupied territory between Krypton and Gotham. Officially so, at least.”

“Officially what?”

“Officially unoccupied. It’s not true, of course. There are some who still live here. Keep your eyes and ears open, Highness.”

Stray doesn’t elaborate anymore, as he usually does, and they ride in silence, deeper into the woods.

The path they take gets thinner as they go, looking less and less used. It gets so bad that Kon has to let Stray’s horse go first, because the path is not wide enough for both of their horses to fit, and then gets branches in the face.

“Are you sure we’re going the right way?” Kon ends up asking, in a stage whisper.

“Of course,” Stray answers, sounding certain.

Kon holds for about a minute of silence before he can’t take it anymore.

“How can you be sure, though? There’s no road signs or whatever, there’s barely any road left!..”

Stray half-turns to him, twisting in his saddle.

“Do you mean to tell me,” he starts carefully, “that there’s road signs in the forests you’ve been to?”

“The one next to the castle has them,” Kon answers, confused.

Stray’s eyes widen minutely, but he schools his expression into a carefully crafted indifference.

“ _Oh_ ,” he says. “You haven’t been out of the castle much, have you, Highness?”

“I’ve been out! To some diplomatic meetings and annual ceremonial celebrations,” Kon explains.

“Hmm, must have been very eventful and so full of life,” Stray hums. “Small note, though - most forests don’t have road signs. Like, 99.9%, I’d wager.” 

Stray grins at him, and it finally dawns on Kon that Stray has been mocking him all along.

“Do not talk to me like I’m a child!” Kon fumes.

“You were the one implying that forests should have road signs,” Stray laughs.

Kon looks away and sulks for a while, and lifts his head only when Stray calls for his horse to stop, which makes the prince’s horse stop, too.

The view that’s in front of them surprises Kon. It looks like a village, like ruins, of houses looking abandoned some years ago. Kon makes his horse go around Stray’s, to get closer to the small painted houses, the straw roofs of which had fallen in.

“Hey, Highness, what are you doing, we need to go!” Stray starts.

But Kon doesn’t listen - he’s already off his horse and going to the closest house to take a look.

“What is this place?” he asks, not acknowledging Stray’s words.

There is a long pause after that, which Kon should’ve expected by now. But this one feels heavier.

“This used to be a village of a small group of mages that lived peacefully between Gotham and Krypton,” Stray says, and his voice sounds foreign, like he’s not really there. “Quite unfortunate for them, they practiced magic that Krypton was strictly against.”

Kon turns to him with horror in his eyes.

“What?” is all that he can say.

Stray looks at him with what almost looks like pity.

“It's not that Kryptonians are less militarized… It’s that they hide it better.”

Kon looks at the ruins in a new light. He notices scorch marks on some of the buildings and broken down doors. The prince walks down the street, seeing how there was a fire, and over there was a fight.

“When did this happen? And _why_?”

“Over 20 years ago, but it’s hard to be precise, with all of the secrecy. These lands haven’t been monitored closely, them being the neutral zone with its own population, so barely anyone knows this happened. What I do know is that people here practiced magic that is forbidden in Krypton.”

Kon turns to him sharply.

“Do you mean, like making Children of Magic?”

Stray looks at him with even more pity in his eyes, and nods.

“Do- Do you think I may have. May have been made here?” Kon asks, looking around.

There’s a pause after it, one of Stray’s many, and then Kon feels a hand on his shoulder. He turns to see Stray behind him.

“I don’t know. There’s no one to ask anymore,” Stray says, softly, and then adds in a colder tone, “Also, we need to go.” 

Kon shakes his hand off.

“No! If this place is in any way connected to me, I need to see it!”

He takes off as soon as he says it, ignoring Stray’s frustrated screams.

Kon sprints down the street and slows down only at the end of it, looking around. The buildings here are in worse state than the others, and Kon ducks into one of them to stay out of Stray’s view. Only three of the four walls are still standing, and Kon steps over what's left of the fourth and into a garden behind the house. Nature has already taken back all that was changed by human hand, all the carefully curated flower beds and vegetable patches have grown over. Kon goes along a small stream that is running through the garden and towards the forest. The closer he gets to the forest, the more disturbed he feels. There’s a few big boulders there, laying on the ground a few feet apart, as if they were thrown around by some unimaginable force. Broken glass crunches under Kon’s boot, a leftover from some vials broken probably when the Kryptonian soldiers came. The scene doesn’t look recent, with all of the grass and even small trees grown over all of it. There’s a cluster of something bright-blue at the brim of the forest, so Kon comes closer to investigate.

That’s when the rustling sound reaches his ears, and a small figure dashes from the bushes and headbutts him in the legs with a mighty yell.

Kon staggers back a bit, and his hands come to hold the little form in front of him automatically. 

That’s how he ends up with a little child struggling in his arms.

“Hey,” Kon says, his voice shaking, when the kid looks up at him with eyes angry and unafraid, “I won’t hurt you, I promise!”

He’s not sure if the child believes him, but then a lot of things happen at once and that becomes unimportant.

First, there’s a loud crash from the forest, sounding like trees cracking under the weight of something big moving forward - big and uncaring about any obstacles in it’s way.

Second, the child in front of Kon screeches and bolts, screaming something in a language Kon doesn’t understand.

Third, a creature steps out of the woods, large and massive, and lunges at the child, ignoring Kon completely.

The decision forms in Kon’s head in a moment, all of the physical training he did at the castle flowing into his head, and he jumps forward to catch the creature with his bare hands.

He staggers back, a long line drawn in the dirt where his legs didn’t hold and he was physically moved by the sheer mass of the creature. Upclose, Kon can see its long beaked elongated mouth and hear the snapping of the sharp teeth in it. Its body is monkey-like, with unnaturally long limbs, and the muscles rolling under Kon’s hands are something that can totally crush him. But, for some reason, instead of attacking, the creature screeches, as if burnt, and staggers back from him. It screams, as if in pain, and runs back to the forest.

There’s a moment of deceptive calm, and then Stray says, breathless:

“What the fuck?!”

Kon turns to see the thief standing at the entrance to the garden. He’s bent forward, leaning onto his hands propped on his knees. He’s also breathing hard, as if he’s just ran a marathon.

“First, you run down the street in a span of like a second, and then, when I finally catch up to you, you’re suddenly fighting a monster?!”

“Oh, you saw it, too?” Kon asks dumbly, blinking heavily.

It feels like his body is only now starting to deal with the stress of what’s happened, and everything around him feels too slow.

Stray steps forward, extends his hand towards him and opens his mouth to say something. But before he gets a chance to do it, the child that Kon saved from the monster runs up to him, saying something excitedly and loudly.

Then, the kid grabs Kon’s hand and drags him towards the other side of the garden. Kon follows.

“Hig-” Stray starts, but cuts himself off, “Wait! Where are you going, stop!”

The kid doesn’t stop, and Kon doesn’t, too, and Stray has to follow them. Under the canopy of the forest, he trots up to Kon.

“What. Are. You. Doing?” Stray hisses.

“What does it look like?” Kon whispers back. “Or do you want me to be mean to a little kid?!”

Stray mutters something under his breath, sounding irritated, and crosses his arms over his chest. He doesn’t say anything, though, all the way down the path that the child takes them through, leading to a low fence encircling a no more than a few couples of houses.

When the child yells something, calling out, people flow out of the houses and onto the street, forming a circle around them. A discussion arouses, which Kon still doesn’t understand because of the language barrier, and the more the child speaks, the more people start looking at him with some kind of awe. The child talks, gesturing wildly and animatedly, and Kon guesses that it’s a retelling of the monster’s attack, and then the people clap and yell, and some of them run off somewhere. The crowd grabs on to Kon and drags him towards the village’s center and Stray follows them, grumbling.

Some tables are being put on the street, food and drinks are being brought out and soon a feast is starting. Kon is pushed towards the space at the head of the table and Stray slithers through the crowd to stand close behind him.

Then, the people who left as the story was finished, are coming back. The two men are carrying a palanquin with an elderly lady in it. They carry the woman up to Kon and help her get down, and one of the men steps up to stand at her side. The prince feels Stray tense up beside him, but doesn’t think the thief’s caution is necessary - all of these people seem so nice!

As the elderly woman approaches Kon, he notices a yellow and red amulet with a stone cut in the shape of an hourglass. The woman carries an air of importance Kon’s seen in kings, and thus he suspects she’s the one in charge here.

Kon tries to bow, as the etiquette commands, but the woman stops him, putting her hands on his arms and softly urging him to straighten up. She says something in her language, and then turns to the man standing at a respectable distance behind her. The man bows to her and approaches them.

“Lady wishes to say greetings to you,” the man says.

Kon looks at him with wide eyes.

“You speak our language!” he breathes out, relieved.

“I try,” the man says. “It may not be perfect.”

“Sounds perfect enough to me,” Kon grins, “because I can finally understand all of these nice people! Please, tell the lady that we’re very happy to be here! What are you celebrating?” 

The man blinks at him in obvious confusion.

“You. We are celebrating you,” he says.

The man turns back to the elderly woman and she says something, while Kon gapes.

“Elder Augustine says we are honored to have someone like you here,” the interpreter translates. “She is our esteemed leader. What is your name?”

“I’m, Ko-” Kon stutters as Stray jabs him in the ribs, and it leaves him a mere second to decide, “Konner. With a ‘c’. Conner with a ‘c’, yes.”

Kon feels Stray side eying him judgmentally, even though he’s not looking at the thief directly.

“But, um, I don’t want to be disrespectful, but, what do you mean ‘someone like’ me?”

There is a second where Kon wonders briefly how all of the lessons on diplomacy and proper speech has managed to fly over his head so completely. No wonder Kal didn’t want him for an heir.

Then, what the elderly woman says snatches his attention. 

“You are a blessing child,” the man translates. “You are holy. Only holy can fight the monster in our woods.”

"I-I d-don't know what you mean," the prince stutters,"t-that's not me."

The elderly woman comes up to him and Kon feels Stray move, but before anything can happen, the woman just puts her hands on his shoulders gently.

"You shall not be afraid," the man translates as the elder speaks, "You are safe with us."

The woman takes Kon's hand in hers and leads him to the table. She sits by him at the head of the table and gives a brief toast to the others, saying how blessed they are to be joined by Kon today. The feast starts, and Kon thrives under the attention and awed gazes so much that he almost forgets about Stray. 

Almost. 

When a local bittersweet alcoholic drink has taken its toll on the party people, Stray tugs at Kon's sleeve to get his attention. 

"Okay," Stray says, "This is the perfect opportunity for us to run."

“What? Why?! They’re so nice!”

“They’re too nice, Highness. They want something. The nice ones _always_ want something! Come on.”

Stray tugs at Kon’s arm, but the prince shrugs him off.

“Well, I want something from them, too!” he retorts, stubbornly staying in place. “I want to know all they can tell me about Children of Magic.”

“Highness, you don’t understand!”

“No, _you_ don’t understand! This is a chance for me to find out who I am! I am not going to pass it up!”

Kon turns away from Stray and marches towards the elder, not looking back. He can’t find her right away, but instead, he finds the man who translated for him.

“Hey!” Kon waves at the man and then realizes, “oh, sorry, I forgot to ask you for your name!”

“It’s Cilix, esteemed one. And what is the name of your servant?”

Kon turns to see Stray standing behind him, the thief’s arms crossed over his chest, and his head turned away.

“Um, he’s not, um, my servant?” Kon’s not really sure why it sounds like a question. “And his name’s. Alvin.”

“My apologies. Would you or your companion Alvin need something?”

“ _I_ would like to speak to your elder. I need to ask her something.”

The translator nods and leads Kon to the woman. When Kon’s request is explained to her, she agrees to step aside to have a private conversation with him.

Well, as private as one including an interpreter between them and Stray trailing a few feet behind can be. That’s when Kon finally asks the question that plagued him the whole time they’ve been here.

“You know I’m a Child of Magic, but. Do you know,” he says and takes a deep breath, “if I was made _here_?”

The woman listens for the translation carefully and then turns her head, looking at Kon apologetically. She shakes her head.

“We can’t know for sure,” Cilix translates. “We have lost all of the scrolls with the holy names.”

“Here goes nothing,” Kon sighs. “Well, then, can you tell me about this place? And the attack it suffered?”

The elder looks around as if to make sure that the celebration is happening far enough, so that the others wouldn’t overhear them, and only then starts talking.

The abandoned village that they’ve passed has been a place of magic, once, full of cunning mages, trying to understand the mysteries of the universe. The Children of Magic, or, as they called them, of the Blessing, were one of their most treasured creations, their pride and joy. A lot of people, from all of the kingdoms, traveled far to find the village and to beg for a child of their own. The village and the mages stayed on the verge of Gotham and Krypton, never fearing for their safety, despite Kryptonian laws outlawing their creations.

“That knowledge was lost, because there were no mages left… After,” Cilix explains. “But we know that there was a truce between our lands, an understanding, to never interfere.”

That changed when Krypton attacked, out of the blue, one day. Soldiers rampaged through the village, burning the building and swinging their swords. The records and all of the magical studies were destroyed. All who could fled to the forest, but mages stayed behind, trying to protect their research. Some of their bodies were found, some - were not.

“We are just a mere fraction of what was left” Cilix translates. “Our community is young, because most of us were children back then. Elder Augustine commands me to tell you that she doesn’t know much because she was not a mage but a simple midwife, and therefore not important, but I would disagree with that. She governed our community for years and we thank her.”

“You are, indeed, an outstanding community,” Kon smiles.

The elder woman smiles back at him, but then her face becomes grim. She turns to the translator, and her speech is long and determined.

“Our community is suffering,” Cilix translates finally, “and you are the only one who can help, oh holy one!”

Stray huffs something from behind him, but Kon doesn’t pay attention to him, stepping closer to the elder and the man who translates for her.

“Tell me what’s going on,” the prince says, “I’ll do whatever I can to help!”

It turns out that the monster that attacked them in the morning wasn’t there for the first time. The villagers still go to the ruins sometimes, to try to salvage old materials or to pay respects to the dead relatives. Over a month ago, a person who went there disappeared. The settlers searched through the forest, but found no traces of the lost person, but they were young, and a lot of young people tend to talk about leaving the village and trying their luck in the big wide word. But then, it happened again, and again, and then a child disappeared.

The cause of it all became apparent when one person managed to escape the monster’s attack and come home, bearing the news of the creature that came out of the woods.

“It is a creature of magic, unnatural,” Cilix explains, “and it cannot harm you. You cannot be harmed, for you are magic yourself. You’ve fought it before! Please, save our people!”  
Kon looks around, at the people dancing and drinking and laughing, at children and parents together.

They are wrong to call _him_ ‘holy’, for he is not. But this, this community, the families who live here -they are.

So, it’s not really a difficult decision, what to answer.

“Of course,” Kon promises. “It’ll be my honor to help.”

The elder grabs his hand and speaks something, fast, smiling at him. Kon opens his mouth, but before he gets a chance to speak, the elderly woman turns to the crowds and bellows something to them. There’s a pause before the crowd bursts into screams and cheers.

Kon is being tugged towards the people, again, and some are smiling and some are crying, but all of them have gratitude in their eyes - not even for something completed, but for just agreeing to help.

The people bring him a tray full of things. There’s some ceremonial armor chestplate that’s probably going to be too small for Kon and a dagger covered in shiny stones. Kon smiles at all of the cheering and accepts the gifts and the bag with food. After he has taken everything they had to give him, the elder asks him to join her at the low table and sit, so she would share all they know about the monster and it’s habits. Most of the attacks have taken place at the sunset, and that’s when Kon’s planning to depart for the hunt.

When his decision is announced, the crowd goes wild. More drink is distributed, more songs are sung, and Stray finds the moment to corner Kon at the table where he’s sitting with the elder, for the first time in a while with no one trying to talk to Kon or touch him.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Stray hisses. “Are you out of your mind? There is no way you’re going to go on a hunt for a monster now!”

That offends the prince.

“I can take it, I have already, if you haven’t noticed, stopped it while it was attacking a child before, thank you very much,” Kon huffs, crossing his arms, “ And just so you know, I have a knight's training!”

“OH my _gods_ , he has _a knight's training_ ,” Stray mutters, rolling his eyes. “That thing is gonna eat you alive! Don't play hero, Your Highness.”

"What are you-” Kon splutters, indignantly, but then stops himself and tries another tactic, ”Children are dying!! You can't be so unfeeling that you'd let children die!"

"Oh, I can," Stray hisses. “Because I’m not responsible for them, I am responsible for _you_! And I won’t let you to jeopardize-”

Stray doesn’t get to finish what he was saying, because the elder and a group of young women approach them. The women giggle and push one of them towards Kon, and she blushes and puts a flower wreath on his head. Cilix starts translating that it’s their way to wish him luck, but Kon’s looking at the elder instead, as the woman approaches Stray.

Before he can do anything about it, the old woman grabs Stray by the chin and tilts his head down, forcing the thief to make eye contact.

As soon as the woman looks into Stray’s eyes, she gasps, as if in horror, and recoils from him. She shouts something, and the girls, the interpreter Cilix and the other villagers who were anywhere near them step away, too, making for a few feet radius between the crowd and Stray.

Kon feels the space between them, stepping in front of Stray, a shield between him and the muttering crowd.

“What is going on?” Kon demands.

Cilix looks nervously at the elder and back at Kon.

“The elder says your. Your companion is,” Cilix wrings his hands, his mouth in a thin line, “I do not know the word in your language for it! But Elder says he is unnatural, unfeeling! It’s in his eyes, they are darkness!”

“I thought you said this place was free of prejudice,” Kon says, feeling something cold grasp at his heart, “But you judge him because his eyes are _dark_?”

“No, it’s because he’s-” the translator mutters something in his own language, and then tries again, “Malicious!”

Kon steps back, thus forcing Stray to take a step back, too. Cilix frowns helplessly, as if talking about this hurts him.

“I cannot find the word to explain!” he admits, “But your companion cannot stay here. Such is the wish of the people!”

Kon turns back to Stray, to see the thief with his arms crossed over his chest, which was probably meant as a threatening and angry gesture, and ended up looking like a protective one.

“Okay, we’ll be leaving then,” Kon decides, and puts the cup he was holding on the table with a loud clang.

A worried murmur rises over the crowd, but Kon doesn’t turn to them as he is busy picking up the dagger they gave him.

“And don’t worry, I’ll get rid of your monster. I’m not the one to go back on my promises, unlike some people. Let’s go, Alvin.”

Unexpectedly enough, Stray follows him without any protests.

He’s not sure how much time passes as he walks further into the forest, stomping his feet angrily, but Stray finally catches up to him.

“Where are you going?” the thief asks, his voice lacking the taunt it had previously.

“Didn’t you hear me there? I’m going to kill the monster. And before you say something, just- Just don’t! No one deserves to be slaughtered like that, no one deserves to bury their children. I am going to keep my promise. I am going to make it right.”

Stray looks at him with those dark, deep eyes. How could they have said all of those horrible things when Stray’s eyes are the most beautiful things Kon’s ever seen?

“That’s noble,” Stray says, after a pause, and it doesn’t sound mocking for once. “Stupid, of course, but noble.”

Stray still has his arms held around him, which shouldn't really help with the balance, but he thief’s step is still fluid and graceful. His fingers minutely grip his arms tighter, before he lets go, sighing.

“What can I do to help?” Stray asks.

“You want to _help_?” Kon asks, not really meaning to sound so surprised.

Stray huffs irritably.

“I am interested in you not getting killed, you know,” he admits, “I have a bounty to collect from your father.”

“Oh,” Kon says, disappointed. “Of course.”

He doesn’t answer Stray’s question, and the thief does not press him to. They walk deeper into the forest, Kon looking around for signs of a large creature passing through.

But, instead of broken branches or claw marks, they find footprints.

“This looks human,” Kon whispers.

“Yeah, I doubt the monster would wear a size 9 leather boots with well worn soles,” Stray whispers back.

Kon doesn’t have the time to ask Stray how exactly he knows that, because the next moment he hears a low gurgling sound from behind the trees nearby. He ducks and signals Stray to do the same, and the thief does that, rolling his eyes.

They crawl towards the source of the sound, keeping as quiet as possible. When they are close enough and can see what’s behind the trees, Kon gasps in shock.

There’s a big metal cage in the clearing behind the trees, and the creature they were looking for is in it. It’s wailing, miserably and softly.

“What the hell,” Kon says, stepping into the clearing, lowering his hand with the dagger in it.

Stray steps forward, towards the cage, examining it thoroughly. 

“It seems like we have found you a more devious villain than a simple-minded monster,” he says thoughtfully, and then adds with a smirk, “Sir Knight.”

Kon would've kicked him, but he’s busy looking around what clearly is a well-lived campsite. He finds sleeping bags and food, and metal rods with what looks like silver hooks on the end. The hooks are covered in dried green blood. When Kon turns to the creature, he finds deep cuts and scars on its body.

“The creature didn’t attack anybody because it wanted to,” Kon realizes, “Somebody used it to scare the villagers! I doubt it’s even a predator, its blood is green, that’s what it’s like when a creature only eats vegetation.”

“You do know your monsters, Your Highness,” Stray says, sounding impressed.

“It’s not a monster. It’s been used against the villagers, and they believed that it’s one only because of the way it looked. The real monsters are the ones who used it.”

Unexpectedly enough, Stray does not have any more sarcastic remarks to add - he just nods at Kon and turns back to the cage, where the creature has tried to hide in the corner, as far away from them as possible.

“Mustn’t have been easy,” Stray says, putting his hands on the metal bars, “To be in a cage.”

There’s sympathy in his voice, some kind of understanding.

There’s also a metal collar around the creature’s neck and it makes Kon’s blood boil.

He marches towards the cage and pulls at the heavy lock on it.

“Wait, we’re going to need something sturdier than just your hands,” Stray huffs.

He goes to the campsite and starts rummaging through the things there, carelessly throwing away all that he deems useless. 

Kon lets him, but turns towards the lock, trying to force it open with his bare hands. 

He doesn’t realize when it happens, but at some point the sounds of Stray throwing stuff around disappear.

“Hey, you find anything?” Kon asks over his shoulder, keeping his eyes on the lock.

When Stray doesn’t answer, he turns around slowly, fearing that Stray decided to leave him behind and wouldn’t be there when Kon turns around.

But Stray is there.

Just as a man with a crossbow pressed to the thief’s forehead is.

Stray’s on his knees, rooted to the spot.

Without thinking, Kon makes a move towards them, but as he does that, something heavy lands on his head from behind, with speed and force strong enough to send him to his knees, too. He falls, disoriented, his vision swimming, blood dripping down his forehead and getting into his eyes.

“That shoulda knocked him out!” an unpleasantly high voice says from behind him.

Kon tries to get up, solely focused on Stray’s face, the man’s dark eyes wide and alarmed.

“K- Conner!” Stray yells.

Just as a second blow lands on Kon’s head, rendering him unconscious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've answered an ask about Connor Hawke on my tumblr, please, read it if you're worried about his and Tim's age difference and\or either something happened between them [here](https://unluckyloki.tumblr.com/post/613052634987970560/im-loving-your-new-fic-so-far-i-just-wanted-to)
> 
> [a nice song I was listening to while writing](https://youtu.be/HyO1q52WLzw) \- it makes me think of TimKon dynamics in this story
> 
> I hope everyone's staying safe & sane during quarantine!


	4. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kon wishes they had more time, but they are already at the gates of one of the biggest houses in Metropolis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have rewritten one of the scenes here more than 3 times and I am so, so tired  
> thank you @Erica[45](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erica45/pseuds/Erica45) for helping me with untangling it!

✦ three ✦

Kon wakes up to soft thuds sounding somewhere over his shoulder.

There’s also some angry muttering and it’s in Stray’s voice, each word punctuated by a thud.

“Why. Did. I. Think. It. Was. A. Good. Idea,” Stray mutters, the thudding sounds stopping as he sighs, “I’m so not ever taking a job to steal people, this is _exhausting._ ”

When Kon opens his eyes, the world around him swims.

“Stray?” he asks carefully, because even with his swimming vision he sees that Stray is nowhere in this sight.

“Oh,” Stray says, and it sounds irritated, “you’re awake.”

“I? I think? Ow, my head!”

Kon tries to raise his hand to touch the spot that hurts the most, but, somehow, it doesn’t work. He struggles against something holding him down.

“Hey!” Stray cries out indignantly, “Stop that, you’re gonna sink us even faster!”

“What?” Kon blinks, confused.

Stray takes a deep breath and then sighs, even deeper.

“They really hit you pretty hard, haven’t they?” he asks, sympathy sipping into his voice. 

“Um, I don’t- Who?”

“What is the last thing you remember, Your Highness?”

“Hey, you shouldn’t call me that while we’re outside!” Kon hisses.

“Relax. Nobody will hear us,” Stray says, sounding grim. “Answer my question.”

“We went out to look for the monster. We found the monster and tried to open the cage where somebody held it like a prisoner. Then, I’m not sure.”

“Well, then we found out who those ‘somebodies' were. Long story short - they hit you over the head and then dragged both of us to this swamp, where we were tied to this _fantastic_ tree on a mini-island that is smack in the middle of a _lake_ , and just so happens to go under water every night and it’s already _getting darker._ ”

The more Stray talks, the angrier he gets, the louder and higher his voice is.

Kon feels like shrinking on in himself.

“Are you mad at me?” he asks, his voice small.

Stray sighs and there’s another soft thud behind him.

Kon turns, as much as the ropes tying him to the tree allow, but he can’t see Stray - they must be tied back to back.

“I’m not mad at you,” Stray finally says. “You can’t help being so kind and so stupidly naive.”

“Did you just insult me _and_ compliment me at the same time?!”

“Maybe,” Stray laughs softly, but it sounds odd, especially when he adds, “this is a very stupid way to die.”

Kon jerks, but the ropes keep him in place.

“What do you mean? We’re not going to die!”

“We’re tied to a tree and the water is already up to our feet. Admit it, Highness, there’s no way of getting out of this.”

“Have you tried the ropes? You’re a master thief, don’t you have a lockpick or something hidden on you?”

“What the hell do you think I was doing all of those hours when you were out cold? And it wouldn’t have worked, anyway, they said that the rope is enchanted, and, after all of my futile tries, I decided to believe them.”

“They?”

“The guys who ‘employed’ the creature for their devious schemes. They’re ex-soldiers, and they had served over 10 years in prison for stealing and deserting their post. They hid something here, 20 years ago, when the mage village was raided, and they’re back to get it.”

“How did you get all of that information?”

“From the context of their conversations. You’d be surprised what kinds of secrets people tend to spill, if they know you’re not going to get a chance to talk about it.”

They lapse into silence after that, Kon not knowing what to say. He tries to move his arms in the ropes, but there’s no give.

“We are _not_ going to die here,” he repeats stubbornly, even though the water’s already up to his calves and gaining ground fast.

Stray laughs at him and his laugh is bitter.

“Oh, please, enlighten me on how you’re gonna get out of here?”

Kon doesn’t say anything, because he doesn’t know, because this is all unfair and he doesn’t want to go like this, just having escaped the dungeon and humiliating execution by his own people, just having got to see Stray, and oh, isn’t it the blow in the gut, that all of this is because of him, Stray having to suffer the consequences of his choices.

“I’m sorry I’ve gotten you into this,” Kon murmurs remorsefully.

There’s a pause from Stray, and Kon’s almost sure the other man is not going to dignify him with a reply.

But, instead, Stray sighs.

“It’s not your fault. At least, not directly. You did dumb things - true. But. You weren’t the one who tied us to a tree with a magic rope stolen from the lost mage village, right? So, that’s not your fault.”

“I’m still sorry. I wish it were different.”

“Don’t we all,” Stray sighs, “want the things to have been different. Sadly, it doesn’t work like that.”

They stay in silence for a little more, the water soaking the hems of their shirts.

There's a moon in the sky, a pale crescent.

“My name’s Tim,” Stray suddenly says.

Kon jerks, strains against the ropes trying to turn around to get a look at him.

“Wha- Why would you tell me?”

“I thought it’d be fair. You’re the last person I’ll ever talk to, so it’d be nice if you could actually say my name. And it’s not like you’re gonna tell anyone about it anyway.”

“Okay,” Kon says, his voice shaking, “Tim.”

The name tastes like honey in his mouth. 

Tim. 

Tim has finally let him use it!

And it’s all for nothing because the water is up to Kon’s chest now, and it must be even higher for Stray, who is shorter than him.  
It’s all for nothing, and he’d never get to see Tim again, he’s never going to enjoy the sun on his skin and they’d never get to Metropolis and Kon’d never meet his second dad, and he’d never really know who he is, who he could’ve become…

Kon remembers suddenly about the rope, and the village where it came from. His mind jumps straight to the fight with the creature, how he could stop it with his hands alone. Of the villagers, the surviving ones anyway, and how the one who Kon could understand told him that the creature would not be able to harm him, because of who he is.

And who is he? 

A Child of Magic.

What does Kon know about it?

Children of Magic are cursed and hated in Krypton - and, well, that’s about it.

The only mage Kon has ever known was Kara, and he was never allowed to study with her.

What other things were hidden from him? What other knacks may being the Child of Magic have? 

He tries to remember what fighting the creature felt like, what he thought about when he stopped its massive body with his bare hands.

He didn’t think about much, he remembers. 

He was terrified, that he remembers well. Angry, also, at the creature, for threatening the kid.

Oh, that must’ve been it. All his thoughts were about the kid in danger.

And now Tim was in danger, his breathing sounding off, somewhere behind Kon.

 _The water must’ve gotten to his mouth by now_ , Kon thinks absentmindedly getting angry with each passing moment.

He remembers now the man who had pointed his crossbow at Stray, when they were in the forest. He thinks about how worried Tim looked when another man hit Kon over the head.

Kon lets the rage over it all consume him, fueling it with all that happened over the last two days.

The ropes break when the water has already gotten to Kon’s chin.

He moves, fast, locating Stray by the strangled gasp, getting to him not a second later and grabbing him by the arm.

Kon lowers Tim on the sand at the side of the lake, and he does it as carefully as he can, even when the energy in his veins is still buzzing, looking for a way out. 

The world around him is too loud, too bright, his senses heightened. He hears a soft whimper somewhere in the woods, and his feet take him there without much prompting from his head.

He hears Tim say his name - first, confused, then, alarmed, but he is already moving away, fast. He’d only be a moment, and he will keep an ear out for him.

The men who hurt him and Stray are there, and the cage with the frightened creature is, too.

The men are laughing as the creature whimpers in pain because of the silver bounding it, and Kon sees red. He tears out the door to the cage and proceeds to tear into the metal collar on the creature’s neck, effectively pulling it off.

The men scream, say something about a vengeful spirit with red eyes coming for them, but Kon only pays attention to their weapons, or, rather, taking those away.

He knows that the creature will deal with the man on its own, rage giving it strength for its rightful vengeance.

Kon turns back to where he left Stray and arrives at the beach at the lake in a flash of movement and colors.

Tim’s still sitting on the ground, his clothes and hair wet, a frantic look on his face.

The brightness disappears and Kon remembers it’s nighttime.

“Kon?!” Tim gasps. “How did you do that?”

“Do what?” Kon asks, genuinely confused.

“You’ve just disappeared for a few minutes! And then appeared again! Is that a harpoon in your hands?!”

Kon looks down to see the last one of the weapons, the one he didn’t throw away for some reason.

“Yeah, it’s from the campsite,” he says, tossing it away.

“From the campsite?!” Stray repeats, incredulous. “You’ve been to the campsite?!‘

“Um, yeah? Oh, the creature is free! And those men won’t harm anyone!”

“How the hell did you get to the campsite so fast? When they dragged us here it took like an hour!”

Kon shrugs.

“I don’t know how to explain,” he simply says.

“He doesn’t know,” Stray mumbles, getting up.

He staggers while doing that, and Kon steps up to help him.

“Don’t!” Tim retorts stubbornly, evading Kon’s helping hand.

He straightens up, one of his arms limp at his side.

Before Kon has a chance to ask, Tim brings his arm up and grabs it by the wrist, and the next moment, with a sickening pop, he sets his shoulder.

“Your shoulder!” Kon gasps, too late, realizing only now why Stray looked so pale before.

Stray shrugs and winces immediately after.

“It was just dislocated. Don’t worry, I’ve had worse.”

Kon isn’t sure how that is supposed to make him worry less.

“How can I help?” he asks, as soon as he’s able to gulp down that feeling of worry.

“You can get us back to that campsite, I’m sure they must have some meds there.”

Kon shifts from one foot to the other.

He doesn’t know what’s happening to him _himself_ , and how he’s supposed to explain it to Stray?

“I don’t think I’ll find the way back there now.”

“What? Why? What changed?”

“I, uh, not, um, I’m not sure I can? I don’t see that well anymore, it’s dark, you know.”

“It was dark a minute ago, too, when you took off, as swift as the wind!”

“I just can’t! I don’t know how to, okay?!”

Tim pauses after that, squinting at Kon with suspicion. 

“Whatever. Keep your secrets,” he huffs, shaking his head.

“I didn’t mean-” Kon starts.

“I don’t wanna hear it,” Stray interrupts. “Because it’s not important right now. We need to move, to find a place to sleep for the night. Pick that harpoon off the ground, it may be of use.”

Kon does as he says and follows Tim into the forest.

Thanks to the bright moon in the sky, it’s at least possible to see where they are going. Tim keeps his arm carefully cradled against his chest and gets snappy at Kon when he asks about it. They walk long enough to find a river, and Stray deems it an acceptable place to stay for the night. Kon sets up a campfire for Stray to stay at, and successfully wins an argument about who would build the makeshift beds for them. He sets out to get the pine branches that will make the beds soft and leaves Tim to warm up by the fire. 

Kon brings the materials for Tim’s bed first, and the man barely looks at him when he sets the bed up for him. Kon leaves to get some for himself and, when he comes back, Stray is already laying down, his back to Kon, pretending to sleep. The prince sets down on his own bed and tries to fall asleep, too.

***

Kon wakes up to sunbeams hot on his face and birds chirping. When he looks up at the sky, as much of it as there is visible through the canopy of the forest, he understands that it’s still early morning.

He gets up to see that Stray is nowhere in sight.

Kon finds him nearby, crouching at the river bank and gathering small red berries into the palm of his injured hand.

“Food,” Tim explains, when Kon approaches, nodding at the ground and the small bushes with the berries. “Not much, but I can’t go hunting like this.”

Stray looks at his injured arm as if it had betrayed him. He has cut off a part of his long shirt to make a sling out of it, but it probably didn’t help with the pain, making Tim irritable and gruff.

He stays like that as they get their stuff, which, at this point, is only Kon’s harpoon. Kon makes sure that the fire is out and they continue on their journey, following the flow of the river. In the next few hours, Stray’s mood doesn’t change at all.

“Are you sure it’s safe?” Kon finally asks, when the silence feels like a burden. “Being so close to the river? Anyone could get to us here!”

“Wow, maybe you could’ve thought about things not being safe in the No Man Land’s magical forest _before_ you decided to get off your horse in the middle of some creepy ruins?!”

“I’ve already apologized for that! You said it was okay!”

Tim swirls around and his eyes are blazing with anger.

“I said it was okay because I was sure we were going to die! I did not know we were going to survive and wander around this cursed forest! There are _things_ here!! It would've been safer on the bottom of that lake, but nooo you had to drag us here!”

“What the fuck, Tim, would you rather have died instead?!” 

“Maybe I would have!!” Stray yells. 

A bird flies off the tree behind him, startled because of the loud sound.

Kon freezes, shocked.

“Tim,” Kon starts.

But Tim doesn’t let him finish.

“And don't call me that,” he snaps. “Where someone can hear, it's still Alvin.”

He imagines steam coming out of Stray’s ears, so angry he looks. There’s also a look in Tim’s eyes that he can’t quite place.

“You’re scared.” Kon suddenly understands. “You’re just scared.”

Anger sizzles out in Stay’s eyes. He takes a step back.

“I’m not.”

Kon doesn’t believe him.

“I’m not going to use your name if you don’t want me to, and I won’t tell anyone either! It’s safe with me, I swear!”

Stray mumbles something under his breath, looking away.

“What?” Kon has to ask.

“Nothing,” Stray sighs, sounding defeated. “Let’s just go.”

It takes them what feels like an eternity for Kon, but probably is half an hour in real time, to finally start talking. Tim speaks curtly, explaining why the forest is so dangerous - it’s not mapped at all, being no man’s land, and it hosts a lot of mysterious creatures. On his previous journeys through these woods, Stray had always taken the shortcuts, minimizing the time spent here. Now, with the two of them stuck in the forest without any means of transportation, they will have to use the river as their guide.

“I just hope nothing else happens,” Stray says, grim.

This brings on another pause, and they walk past a group of large trees, their trunks white and shiny. There’s more vegetation here, long curvy ferns clinging to Kon’s pants. At one point, Kon starts noticing small blue flowers hidden under the large leaves of a plant Kon doesn’t know the name of. It feels like everything’s blooming, like it’s the middle of spring.

Encouraged by the lively forest around him, Kon tries to make conversation with Tim, asking him about his travels and adventures as Stray. There’s a few almost legendary stories about the famous thief, and Kon wants to know if they’re true - one of them about Stray stealing a princess' heart so masterfully that she has never loved a man again, and the other about him turning into a bird and escaping the vault of a wealthy merchant, the room with no doors and just one window. 

Stray laughs about the first one, saying that he has no use for a princess' heart, and, if he is guessing correctly which princess this is about, she would have never loved a man anyway. The second one makes him smile smugly, because the vault really had no visible doors, but Tim had a special charmed lock pick that helped him find one, hidden by magic. 

The conversation flows easily, as if they've always been like this, telling each other stories about their lives, and the atmosphere around them is joyful and light, just as Kon always wanted it to be. 

That's why he doesn't outright notice that something is wrong.

But something is, because the air feels thick with the amount of mist that wasn’t there a moment ago, and it interferes with Stray’s breathing in a weird way.

Kon wants to stop him, to tell him that something is off, but instead he watches helplessly as Tim turns his head somewhere to the left, takes a step away from Kon and disappears into the bushes.

Kon doesn’t know how the guy manages to move so fast, but, after having run down a hill and nearly crashing into a few trees, he finds Stray leaning over a stream, fog rising off its water.

The water in the stream is pastel-pink, and the rocks in it look like smooth, polished gemstones.

A hand rises up from the stream, it’s palm up.

Kon can’t see anything else in the water underneath.

A coin appears on the palm. Golden and shiny. 

Tim leans down to pick it up.

“No!” Kon hears himself yell, as he leaps forward towards him.

Kon collides with him, which can’t be good for Stray’s injured arm, he thinks belatedly. But they are already tumbling down and over a small slope, landing a mix of limbs and groans. Tim comes to his senses first, untangling himself from Kon, and gets up. He makes a run back to the stream, but Kon reaches out to grab him by the ankle. That restricts Stray’s movements, pulling him back, and he turns and _hisses_ at Kon, really _hisses,_ but Kon stubbornly holds on.

There’s more hands in the pink stream now. And still no way the stream is deep enough to fit in one, not to mention a few, bodies underneath.

There’s more coins, a few on each palm.

“Ti- Stray! Come back to your senses, don’t you see something here is _wrong_?!”

There’s pink butterflies in the air, their wings fluttering carelessly. Their bodies and limbs are sparkly, covered in tiny crystals growing directly on them.

Kon catches Stray in the careless moment of staring at the butterflies, and yanks at his ankle. The sudden movement makes Tim fall, with the lack of his usual grace. Tim turns to face Kon as he’s trying to kick him, and the hatred on his face makes Kon flinch. 

The prince takes all of the kicks and hisses stoically, pulling Stray closer. He finally manages to take a look at Tim’s eyes and notices a strange, unnatural haze in the thief’s eyes.

“Tim, please, this isn’t you, something’s playing with your mind, some kind of magic, please, you need to think, focus!” Kon pleads, but to no avail.

Tim is stubborn - even being back on the ground, he tries to slither out of Kon’s grasp and crawl towards the stream. He tries to reach out for the gold in the ghostly hands, leaning onto his injured arm for purchase. Kon can’t let him mess his arm up even more, so he yanks at Stray and flips him over, crawls over him and straddles his legs so as not to let him kick, and locks his arms’s movement with his own, trying to be gentle with the injured one. Tim still tries to simmer out of his hold, but fails, ending up huffing like a disgruntled and very irritated cat.

“Tim, stop!” Kon cries out. “You’ll hurt yourself! Why are you doing this?!”

Turning his head at a weird angle, Tim’s eyeing the money that’s still glistening gold.

Kon doesn’t think the money’s real, but Tim’s eyes are hazy, and the magic he’s under probably makes him believe it is.

“Money’s important,” Stray mumbles, twitching in Kon’s grasp.

“Why?”

“Money will solve everything,” Tim says with conviction. “I need it.”

As soon as he says that, more coins appear, some of them even falling into the stream.

Tim huffs and tries to reach out to it.

A thought comes to Kon’s mind, a decision that has to be taken right now or never, and he acts almost on impulse but also out of complete conviction that he’s right. He brings his head down swiftly and headbutts Stray square in the face. There’s a sickening sound of their skulls being hit against each other, and Stray passes out.

 _I know what I’m doing_ , Kon keeps telling himself, _I know how to knock someone out without permanently damaging them_.

But he still feels sick at the pit of his stomach when he looks at Stray’s slack face.

The butterflies, a whole swarm of them, takes his attention away from the thief’s pretty face. Kon looks at the chaotic dance of the crystallized creatures and then turns towards the pink stream. The hands have lost the coins, some of them disappearing altogether, but some are still there, opening and closing in desperation, spasming in silent agony.

There’s a rustle of hundreds of wings behind him and Kon turns to see a face in the mass of crystallized butterflies. It could’ve been mistaken for a human face, if it wasn’t made of parts of the pink insects, all moving and crawling.

“I knew there was someone behind this!” Kon exclaims, stepping in between the creature and Stray, who’s still lying motionless on the ground. “You were trying to give him what he wants, didn’t you?”

As if confirming his guess, the creature manifests two small, slender hands and raises them towards Kon, offering a handful of coins in each one of them.

“No, I don’t want that,” Kon says, shaking his head, as the coins vanish and bright jewels take their place. “I don’t want that either.”

The creature tries to manifest some exotic foods and then flowers, but Kon shakes his head every time.

“I see that you don’t mean any harm,” Kon says, with sympathy in his voice, “but, tough luck, buddy - even I don’t know what I want!”

That’s true, he has no idea what he wants, he feels like a complete failure of a person - that is, if he even is a person, if the children of magic can be considered that.

The frantic flutter of wings pulls him out of his thoughts. The pink caterpillars that serve as the creature’s eyebrows frown, and an assortment of things pour out of its palms.

“I’m sorry, there’s nothing you can give me,” Kon says, and it does sound apologetic. “But you could let us leave? If you want to give me what I want, it’s this- just let me take him with me and leave this forest!”

Kon looks at Stray, out cold on the ground.

The rustling of the wings gets closer, and then a hand, its ghostly skin crawling in unnatural ways, lands on his shoulder for a fleeting moment. Kon doesn’t dare move and doesn’t dare look, and then the sounds around him disappear and he turns to see that he’s standing alone at the clearing, and that there’s a path where a stream used to be.

So he picks Tim up from the ground, hoisting him up on his shoulders, and carries him down the brightly lit path. It doesn’t take long before they are out of the forest.

***

Stray comes to when Kon’s already halfway to the village on the Gotham side of the forest. The thief’s not thrilled about being carried, so Kon has to put him down before Tim hurts himself trying to get out of Kon’s hold.

“Not a word about this,” Tim hisses through his teeth when Kon tells him a carefully curated story about the creature and the magical pink stream. “Never. To anyone.”

Stray continues mumbling about the most embarrassing mission of his life all the way to the village.

The Gorthamites there are suspicious, but after Stray talks to them, an explanation easy and convincing on his tongue, they stop giving them the heavy glances.

The two of them stay at the inn for the night, and set out towards Metropolis as soon as the sun rises the next day.

The rest of the way is surprisingly uneventful. They even talk a little, even though Kon’s doing most of the talking, with Stray being standoffish and careful with each one of his words. Kon feels like all of the progress they’ve made has been lost, but Tim does seem to warm up to Kon over the next few days, gifting Kon with a few sincere smiles and even teasing Kon on occasion.

Kon wishes they had more time, wishes Tim _wanted_ to get to know him better, maybe then he’d see that Kon’s not a complete idiot. But the days on the road come to an end as they stand in front of the ornate, rich gates of one of the biggest houses in Metropolis.

Tim exchanges a few words with the guard and the man yells to the other guards that they need to open the gate immediately. The heavy gates begin to open, and the first guard dashes off towards the inner yard. Stray lets Kon go first, and even bows his head to him, what Kon first sees as Stray mocking him, but realizes after to have been an indicator for the servants and guards.

Because, there’s a lot of them in the yard, and more are coming, looking out of the windows of the upper floors and the guards are already bowing to Kon, rendering him speechless. It gets worse when the first guard comes back, followed by a man in a wealthy, heavy coat. The man does not run, but moves steadily, with dignity and the air of self-assurance. 

As the man draws near, Kon notices the sharp features of his face, the complete lack of hair on his head and the shape of his eyes, green in color, but very familiar. As the man stops in front of him, just at an arm's length away, Kon realizes that he has seen this shape many times, looking in the mirror.

The man looks intently at Kon, his eyes moving over his whole frame and stopping on his face.

Then, the man smiles, his smile small, but sharp.

“Welcome home,” the man says, putting his hand on Kon’s shoulder and squeezing tight, “son!”

This is him, the man who is Kon’s second father, the one they’ve been traveling to, the one who paid for Stray’s services to make sure that Kon was saved from execution.

This is a man who is a complete stranger to him, the resemblance between them barely visible, hidden in the shape of their eyes and the stubborn set of their jaws.

So Kon doesn’t know why he does what he does next. He just so desperately wants a connection to someone who doesn’t hate his guts because of the way he was made, who called him son after just meeting him, when King Kal hasn’t done that even _once_ during all of those years, that Kon leaps forward and into the man’s arms. 

His father gasps, not having expected that, but returns the embrace after just a moment of hesitation.

A lot of things happen after that. Kon finds out that his second father’s name is Lex and he is a wealthy merchant - in fact, he is the wealthiest in Metropolis. Lex tells him absentmindedly that he also dabbles in politics, which turns out to be an understatement, because Kon finds out that Lex is on the city council and running for mayor. With the city of Metropolis being a city-state which governs itself by electing the council and the head of the city, it’s a huge deal. 

Lex also shows him around the house, which reminds him more of a palace with each step Kon takes. Lex talks a lot, describing Kon’s unbothered, perfect future in this place, telling him how happy they are going to be in their little family. Lex also tells all of the servants that his son has arrived, motioning to Kon, and tells the workers that they would have to treat him accordingly. There’s also a huge feast planned for the evening, meant to introduce Kon to the highest society of Metropolis. 

Lex is so loud and proud about calling Kon his son that the prince gets overwhelmed by it. So much that he doesn’t outright notice when Stray disappears from view.

When he finally notices and starts asking about him, his father tells him that Stray has accepted an offer of a bath and a healer’s treatment, and will be joining them at the banquet later.

Kon doesn’t believe that. He’s not sure how long Stray has been gone, but he knows in his heart that the thief will not stay for the banquet. Kon tells Lex that he needs to see Stray, just for a moment, and asks for the directions to the room that’s been given to him.

“If you must,” Lex says, displeasure curving his mouth. “You will find him in the servant’s quarters.”

Kon takes off to the part of the house that he remembers as the one his father explained was for the servants.

He finds Stray at the door, in fresh clothes and with two big saddlebags in his uninjured hand. When Tim notices the prince in his way, he stops, a small, surprised _oh_ leaving his mouth.

“You’re leaving already,” Kon breathes out.

“This moment had to come at some point, Your Highness,” Stray says with a smile. “Aw, don’t be sad. I’m sure you’ll find someone to play with here.”

“And you weren’t even going to say goodbye?” Kon demands to know, ignoring the last thing Stray said.

“I didn’t think it was necessary,” Stray shrugs. “After all, I was here for the money.” 

He puts his hand on the leather purse that’s now tied to his belt. As he makes a step, the purse jingles, full of coins. There’s something cruel in Stray’s eyes when he looks at Kon at the next moment, and that look leaves Kon rooted to the spot, unable to move as the thief walks past him and towards the stables.

Stray’s already leading a horse out of the doors when Kon finally catches up with him.

“I _know_ you were in it for the money,” Kon says stubbornly. “But I don’t believe you didn’t feel like we could be… Friends? Maybe? We had fun, too. We talked. And now you’re leaving like it was nothing!”

Tim looks at him for a long moment, and then sighs.

“Listen, you’re a sweet kid-”

“I am _not_ a kid!”

“A _sweet kid_ , and this is exactly what I was trying to avoid.”

There’s a bitter feeling in Kon’s mouth.

“Oh, so you decided not to go to the banquet because you were just trying to avoid seeing me, got it.”

“No, wait, that’s not-” Stray stops and groans. “You don’t really understand the politics of Metropolis and the people who live here. Not everything’s as shiny and nice as it seems. I didn’t really want to see vultures descend at you at the banquet.”

Kon’s taken aback at Stray’s sudden admission. He furrows his brows in confusion.

“Do you mean to say that people in this place are bad people? Is? Is my father-”

He is stopped by Stray’s hand raising up to his face, to gently cup his cheek.

“Oh, Highness,” Tim says softly, with an understanding bordering on sympathy in his voice. “The world is so much more complicated than the division on ‘good’ and ‘bad’ people. And your father is an intelligent man. A very, very intelligent man. Take my words as you will, but, just, don’t let him use that big brain of his against you, okay? You’ll need to think for yourself, and, more often than not, think _fast_. It will not be easy, because your father will try to think for you, but you can’t allow that to happen. You’re the only one who can live your life, so find what you’re good at and make it about _you_ , not anybody else.”

Tim raises on his tiptoes to reach Kon’s face and plants a soft kiss on his cheek.

That’s the last thing Kon gets from him, because the next moment Stray leaps on his horse and rides off towards the gates.

Kon presses a hand to his cheek, as if trying to keep the remaining feeling from the kiss there. His face is burning, and he watches the road a long time after Tim’s horse vanishes from view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the pink stream and the hands with coins in it were sponsored by my weird dreams 👌😏
> 
> if you enjoy my writing, please spare a comment for the starving creator in this trying times


	5. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [I've made a post with my timkon playlists](https://unluckyloki.tumblr.com/post/621478948093771776/do-you-have-a-timkon-playlist) if someone's interested
> 
> Thanks again to @erica45 for sitting through me rambling about this chapter and supporting me! And also the very important audio call where we debated whether Bart should have a tail 👀

✦ four ✦

The tavern is filled to the brim with people who arrived for the Tournament. A bard is playing their lute - a wordless, cheery song. The noise at the tavern quiets as a newcomer steps into the dimly lit hall.

The man is imposingly tall, his shoulders seeming even broader in the half-armor he is wearing. There are two swords strapped to his back and a red paw print on the left side of his chest plate, over his heart. The man looks around the tavern, the look in his eyes well trained and used to assessing the environment and calculating risks.

The crowd tenses. They know who this man is, have heard of the monster hunter with a bear paw print on his armor.

As a waitress is being pushed towards him, the man turns to her.

‘What’s the special on the menu today?’ he asks, his voice loud in the quiet tavern. ‘We’ll have five plates of that and a table, please.’

As the man follows the waitress to the table, the noise in the tavern picks up. It’s obvious now that no fight is going to break out, that the man has come here to rest. The conversations about the famous monster hunter, the Red Bear of the East, pick up and the music starts playing again.

A smaller figure emerges from behind the monster hunter's large frame and scoffs at the local bard.

'That’s the Jolly Goat song! I could play it better!' Bart says at his right and blows a raspberry at the singer.

‘Of course you could,’ Kon agrees with a soft smile.

He watches as his friend flops down on the chair and puts his lute on a separate seat near him, propping the instrument with his bag. Kon takes the only chair that’s left and, for the lack of better options, puts his bag on the floor.

Kon noticed people whispering about him, of course, and tried his best to diffuse the tension before, when he’d just stepped into the tavern. There’s a lot of adventurers in the area, coming to see the famous Tournament. 

The Tournament, with it’s very original name, has been held in this region for centuries. It started off as a merry tradition for blowing the steam off before the beginning of Beltaine. It’s the day most of the peoples celebrate as the beginning of the fertility festival, with all of the rites and amusement it entails. 

Uncommonly for most of the knights’ tournaments, this one has no restrictions on who can join, thus bringing all kinds of people, from rich to poor. Not only human warriors are interested in the tournament - it attracts battle mages and all sorts of half-bloods, for one specific reason. There is an ancient forest nearby, a land sacred and well-guarded. Most people keep away from it, in fear of what the sacred wood may be hiding. The authorities of the town of Talwyren guard the grounds as well as they can - there’s outposts at the edge of the forest, keeping people away and safe. Only once a year people are allowed in, and it’s on the night before the dusk of Beltaine. There is an old tale about the mythical Fern Flower, the one that blooms somewhere deep in the ancient forest. The flower blooms only for a few hours, only at night, only one night a year. If you manage to find it, the flower will grant your heart’s deepest desire and will show you the way to a hidden treasure. The one to win the Tournament will not only receive praise and glory from everyone, but also will have the right to be the first to enter the old forest, thus giving the winner more chances to find the flower.

Kon drifts back to the present because Bart’s talking excitedly by his side, but it’s difficult to understand what he’s saying, because the bard is trying to speak and stuff his face with food simultaneously. Kon takes his gauntlets off, pulls a mug of mead towards him, and sighs. 

It’s hard to believe that it’s been over two years since he’s left Lex. It’s even more unbelievable that he hasn’t stepped on the land of Krypton for even more than that.

Kon doesn’t regret it, though. He has found his destiny and his place. 

Even if, right now, that place is by Bart’s side, and Bart is talking with his mouth full, pieces of food flying everywhere.

‘Bart, woah, hey, slow down a notch there, buddy. What did you wanna say?’

Bart finally puts his spoon down, pushing away the fourth bowl he’s just finished.

‘There’s some mysterious knight who’s gonna be in the Tournament tomorrow. They say that he has given an oath not to speak and not to show his face to anyone, unless he wins the Tournament. But, the guys say that he’s really skinny and that there’s _no way_ he’ll win anything!’

Kon blinks at him, confused.

‘How did you even get that information? We’ve just arrived!’

‘Oh, while you were spacing out broodily, I’ve talked to the guys over there,’ Bart explains, pointing towards the table to their left. ‘They liked Lucinda and we talked for a bit.’

Bart pats his lute, which he insists on treating like their third traveling companion. Kon turns to look at the table nearby, and the company of people there. They are a colorful lot, a team of five, dressed in flamboyant, yet worn out clothes. With those brightly-colored scarves, multiple golden jewelry, feathers in their tricorn hats, and the hidden weapons Kon can see on them, it’s not difficult to guess that the men are pirates.

The men smile at him and wave awkwardly. Kon knows he’s been staring, and probably spooked them, so he forces his face to relax and smiles at them, too. Bart chatters to the men, and they invite the two of them to join their team at the spectators’ sector of the arena. 

After Kon pays for their meal, the two of them retire to the room that’s always available for Kon in this tavern, because once he’s saved the owner’s daughter from being possessed by an evil spirit.

‘I’m so excited for tomorrow!’ Bart says, almost vibrating with glee.

‘And I am excited to do nothing,’ Kon grins.

Bart stops in his tracks and Kon nearly crashes into him.

‘Do nothing?’ the bard repeats, sounding confused.

Kon doesn’t like the look Bart’s giving him, but he doesn’t press. The road they’ve taken today was too tiring, and all that he wants right now is to sleep.

‘Yes, exactly. Finally, I don’t have to participate. I am going to stay in the back and watch the fights and relax. No work for me this time! Just the nice downtime, like I wanted.’

Bart looks at him, his golden eyes almost shining in the half-light of the tavern.

‘Of course,’ Bart says slowly, an impish smile on his lips. ‘Exactly as you wanted.’

***

The first half of the Tournament goes smoothly. Kon and Bart join the pirate crew at the arena. They discuss the contestants, laugh and drink together.

They follow Sir Frederic, the guy who everyone was gossiping about. The knight turns out to be a scrawly lad, his helmet comically big on his head. It turns out he is from an old noble family that has gotten rich recently, after finding gold on their property. The family hasn’t had any knights in years, and there’s a nasty talk around the arena about how they’re just trying to get their only son officially knighted, for better social standing. Kon doesn’t want to believe the rumors. Why can’t a knight fight for their honor? The oath to stay silent and hide his face seems very noble to Kon.

The first round starts with a hundred warriors, fighting in groups against each other. At this part, it’s very difficult to follow the progress of the fights, but surprisingly enough, Sir Frederic stays standing after the fight is called to a stop. Kon listens to the others say that the wannabe knight just got lucky, but the lad keeps winning the next round, and the next one after that. At some point Kon becomes fascinated by his fluid movements, by the grace and hidden strength in the slim body. 

‘And you said he was just a wannabe knight!’ Kon laughs at the pirate’s leader, Otto. ‘He’s gonna win this tournament, you’ll see!’

‘If ye’re so sure, then put yer money where yer mouth is,’ Otto grunts.

They make a bet, and Otto chooses a blacksmith from some remote and poor village as his winner of choice. Kon agrees that the man could win - he’s rough and untrained in the classical types of combat, but his hits are hard and precise. The man is large and imposing, and there's grim determination on his face. 

When five more one-on-one rounds of combat are left, Kon’s peaceful afternoon goes to shit. 

The blacksmith goes down after a nasty and honestly devious stab from his opponent. The opponent is taken off the competition, too, because using an enchanted dagger is against the rules. But, that still leaves the man Otto placed the bet on out of the competition, because of his severe injury. Some people, dressed in a similar manner to the man, come to pick him up. There are multiple women, elderly people and children crying. Kon watches them intently and one of the women turns and meets his eyes. There’s a small crowd that she gathers around her, and then a group of the people from the blacksmith’s village walk up straight to Kon.

That’s the moment his calm shatters. The group tells him they know about him, that he’s saved a child from their village once. They ask Kon to take the place of the man who was in the competition, that it’s the only way the village can get a chance to look for the Fern Flower and save themselves, because their crops are dying and they desperately need money. Even as he tries to say no, Kon knows he’s not going to enjoy the Tournament from the spectators’ area anymore.

‘Is it even a thing?’ he tries. ‘How can I take the place of some other contestant?’

Bart twirls away and comes back, a huge rulebook in his hands.

‘Yeah, it’s a thing that has a unique precedent, and can only be called upon in the specific circumstances of a contestant being defeated in unfair and unjust circumstances, like cheating. Which is. Exactly what happened here.’

The villagers push a little girl towards him, and her eyes are watery and sad, and. Kon, he just.

He _can’t_ say no.

Before he knows it, he is being put in the light armor the contestants are given, the one that's the same for everyone, to make it fair. After the incident with the magical dagger, every contestant's weapons are re-checked. Only after Kon's sword is deemed acceptable, he is let out into the arena. 

The audience goes wild - the rumors about the Red Bear of the East joining the competition have already spread.

For the next few rounds Kon's opponents are so afraid of him that he wins easily. He doesn't pay much attention to the other fights, that being not as easy as it was from the bleachers. When Kon finally straightens out, having won his rounds, he is met by his last opponent.

That's the boy in an oversized helmet, the knight everyone's been talking about, Sir Frederic. Kon's not sure if he should be surprised by that, or be smug that he was right. Well, even if there’s some sympathy in Kon’s heart, he can’t dwell on it, because Kon _needs_ to win, to keep the village fed and safe.

Up close, the young knight is even smaller than he seemed from the bleachers. But the fighting stance he takes looks professional, like something he knows very well.

They're the two last contestants left, and in this fight, the winner will be chosen. As they start circling each other, their swords raised, the audience screams and cheers. Kon tries to ignore their voices, concentrating on his opponent. They both wait for the other to take the first step, and Kon is the first to lose his patience. The boy blocks his lazy blow with ease. He uses the momentum to attack Kon, their swords clashing. 

The kid is _good_. The others had no chances. 

But Kon's not like the others. 

Their swordsmanship skills, however different in style, are a match, and soon their swords are sent flying away.

It’s okay, because Kon doesn't like swords all that much, even though he carries two. He finds hand to hand combat much more fair. His opponent is good at that, too, and he uses Kon’s size against him, the other knight’s movements fluid and fast. They dance around each other, trading hash blows, and most of the hits that land are not Kon’s.

Kon knows he’s taller and broader than most people, and that it can be a disadvantage in a fight with a person skilled enough to know how to turn his strength into his weakness. But what his current opponent doesn’t know is that Kon has learned to act and look more boorish and slow than he actually is.

Kon lets the knight get closer and grabs his arm, redirecting his momentum away from his torso, turning him around and throwing him to the ground, hard. 

Three things happen after that, in what feels like a span of a second. First, the knight hits his head so hard his helmet flies off, but that doesn't slow him down and he kicks Kon in the kneecap before he has a chance to gasp. Kon groans and falls, but has enough sense to pin his opponent down by straddling his waist and holding his wrists to the ground. He’s about to tell the young knight to yield, but that’s when Kon finally looks at his opponent's face.

The world stills around him.

There’s soft black locks, and a half-smirk on rosy lips, and dark, bottomless eyes staring at him intently. He’d recognize those eyes anywhere.

‘Tim!’ he whispers, reverent and low.

That’s when Tim twists underneath him, using his minutely dazed state, and knees him in the crotch with all his might.

The cup he's wearing takes most of the worst of the damage, Kon still gasps, left breathless, his eyes watering and clouding his vision. He is distantly aware of someone counting over him, but he can't get up.

As the crowd goes wild in the background, Kon finally regains some breathing and sight, and then there's an outstretched arm in front of him, and he raises his head to see his opponent offering him a hand and helping him get up. 

The helmet is back on the knight's head and Kon's not sure if what he's seen was real. Especially when the audience spills into the arena and starts congratulating them, and there's a crowd around Kon, too, and he loses the knight in the mass of people.

Bart chitters to him, fast and overly excited. Otto and his pirate crew are telling him something, but Kon doesn't listen, trying to find Tim in the crowd.

When he finds the knight again, he’s hoisted up on the shoulders of some men, and then he takes off his helmet and. 

And the face underneath is _not_ Tim’s.

The boy is much younger than him, even though they look similar, the eyes and hair the same dark color.

But he’s _not Tim_ and Kon can’t believe he’s so stupid he imagined Tim's face there.

‘Hey! Conner!’ he hears Bart’s insistent voice in his ear.

Kon turns to be met face to face with his best friend, their noses brushing. Kon jerks back, but Bart holds on to him, having climbed him like a monkey at some point, to be on eye level. 

‘You were spacing out!’ Bart explains helpfully, like there’s nothing wrong with him hanging off Kon like off a tree. ‘Stop that!’

Kon notices that the people around them aren’t really paying them much attention, and realizes that Bart must be using his limited magic powers to hide them in plain sight.

‘Did you think something unkind about yourself?’ Bart softly asks. ‘Please, don’t do that. You deserve better.’

Kon regrets telling Bart so much about himself.

Or maybe not.

Something tight lets go of his heart as he listens to Bart’s soothing voice.

‘I, uh, thought I saw someone,’ he tries to explain to the bard. ‘But I was du- Wrong. It was just wistful thinking.’

Bart looks at him with a weird glint in his eye.

‘Uh-huh,’ Bart hums noncommittally, but does not explain himself, asking instead, ‘are you ready to face the others? The villagers you fought for wanted to talk to you.’

The villagers! Kon had fought for their right to a chance of a better life and then forgot about them! What a stupid, selfish-

Bart tugs him by the ear, hard enough to elicit a yelp out of Kon.

‘Hey, what did I say?’ Bart asks, sounding stern.

‘Okay, okay, I’ll stop,’ Kon laughs. ‘And okay to coming back. I’m ready to face them.’

Bart doesn't say anything, but beams at him instead, and slides down to the ground. There’s a soft hum of Bart’s magic dissipating around them, and then a group of people from the blacksmith’s village runs up to them, wild-eyed.

Kon is trying to prepare some explanation, some ways to explain, to make it okay. But then the woman in the head of the group speaks.

‘We know you tried very hard!’ she says in earnest tone. ‘And it’s not all lost, right? You’re just going to be the second to enter the forest, so it’ll leave you enough chance to find the flower!’

And isn’t that just a blow to the gut, them being so supportive even after Kon let his feelings and longings get the best of him, effectively losing the match.

Kon opens his mouth to apologize, but that’s when the participants of the Tournament are called towards the center of the arena. They gather there, the audience forming a circle around the last three contestants. They start with officially knighting the winner, and the boy can’t hold the grin when it’s done. Then, the Mayor of the town that shares the border with the Forest gives a speech about the people who took part in the Tournament, about their bravery and skill. Kon kinda misses most of it, staring at the newly knighted boy and thinking about how he could have mistaken him for Tim. It's only thanks to Bart that Kon doesn't miss the last part of the speech, the one with instructions.

(Bart jabs him in the ribs to get his attention back to the speech, so maybe Kon's not _that_ thankful)

The last three contestants are lined up in front of the gate that leads to the Forest and are told that each one of them will have exactly 30 minutes head-start. 

The boy, Frederic, enters first and all that's left for Kon is to wait. 

Those 30 minutes are the most boring half an hour in his _life_. As the second winner, he is supposed to wait in a specifically designated area - no other people are allowed in. The warrior who got the third place does not want to talk to Kon - they even turn away from him when he tries to strike up a conversation. 

So, Kon's left there, bored out of his mind, going through some meditation techniques Cassie has taught him. 

Because of that, he nearly sleeps through his turn. Luckily for him, no one notices that he has to shake himself out of sleep before quickly getting up.

There's an uproar from the crowd, but Kon tries to focus on his task. The other contestant has already been in the forest for the last 30 minutes, but that doesn't mean that Kon has already lost. He's going to do his best to find the flower for the village.

The gates open with a menacing creak and Kon takes a step into the coolness of the trees. The trees look more ancient than the kingdom of Krypton itself, all of them crooked and covered in layers of moss. Kon looks up and loses himself in trying to find where the trees end and the sky begins. He feels like he'll never get over how beautiful and truly immerse the world is. He shakes himself a moment later - he has no time for sightseeing, people are depending on him.

When he's just ten steps in, a figure appears on the winding path. The person is wearing all black clothes, their arms crossed over their chest loosely. 

Kon looks into his face and recognizes Tim.

‘Hello, Kon,’ Tim purrs.

He leans on a tree like he owns the place, smiling lazily.

Kon walks up to him, takes a closer look at Tim, his face unchanged as if no time has passed, his hair the same length. Kon looks at all that and walks past him.

'Hey, what the hell!' Tim's voice yelps.

'The fact that this Forest is full of illusions ain't gonna stop me,' Kon says, marching on.

He hears someone splutter behind him, but keeps on walking.

Then there's steps behind him, loud and angry, and then someone punches him in the arm. The strength of the hit is not enough to knock him down, but it does sting. He turns to see the illusion with Tim's likeness standing at his side. It looks startlingly alike to what Tim looks like when he's angry.

'Did that feel like an illusion, Your Highness?'

Kon looks closer. And. Illusions are supposed to be perfect, right? That's like the easiest way to tell them apart from reality, because when magic replicates something, it tends to leave out the imperfections. But this close, Kon can see dark circles under Tim's eyes, and his hair looks a bit mated on one side. 

'Wait, you're real?' Kon gasps.

'No wa-a-ay,' Tim fake-gasps back at him.

Kon feels his face flush.

'I thought I was hallucinating!' he tries to explain.

'Do you hallucinate my face often?' Tim asks seriously, but, when Kon doesn't answer, starts grinning. 'Wait, you _do_?'

'Shut up!'

There's a pause through which Tim grins mercilessly, while Kon is trying to think.

'Wait, wasn't it actually you at the arena?'

'Yeah, it was me,' Tim nods.

Kon takes a step away from him.

'You kneed me in the balls, what the hell, man!'

Tim has the decency to look ashamed.

'Well, I had to win somehow,' he finally shrugs, but does not meet Kon's eyes.

'Why are you here in the first place?' Kon asks.

'Well, it's a long story,' Tim says, looking back towards the entrance to the forest. 'How about we walk further down the road and I tell you all about it?' 

Kon nods and takes the lead, turning off the path, understanding full well Stray's worry - the third winner will be here soon, so it's best to leave the main road. When Tim tries to walk by his side on the narrow path, Kon tells him to go back to following him a few feet apart. 

'I do not trust you being this close to me after what happened in the arena,' Kon says, squinting at the thief suspiciously.

'I am not going anywhere near your balls, I promise,' Tim laughs.

Kon quickens his pace to make sure that Stray cannot see his face.

***

As they walk deeper into the forest, Tim begins his story. It turns out that he's been hired, as Stray, to take a part in the Tournament instead of one noble family's son. They came up with the idea to cover his face, and managed to switch them before it needed to be revealed. They paid a pretty serious sum for Tim's skill and his silence, and thus he says that he saw nothing wrong in the arrangement, ignoring Kon’s scandalized look.

The payment was supposed to be tripled if Frederic was knighted after the Tournament, so that's why Tim was so desperate to win. He's even apologized to Kon for his dirty tactics, and Kon teased _the merciless and mysterious Stray_ about getting too soft over the last two years. When Tim asks him about what Kon's been up to, except for the part where he became a famous monster hunter everyone knows about, Kon shrugs.

'Well, do you remember what you told me when you were leaving?'

Stray's expression becomes more serious, somber even.

'Yeah, I do,' he laughs lightly, even though it sounds fake.

Kon holds his gaze.

'You were right,' he says. 'It was nice, in the beginning. Lex spoiled me rotten. But then I dared to express my own opinion and. Well. It all went downhill from there.'

Kon meets Tim's eyes, and there's pity in them, and he doesn't want it, so he rushes to explain.

'It wasn't bad, really! Dad loves me, in his own way. But, he also doesn't really know how to express it. How to love me just for me, not for being his son and a ‘continuation of him in this world’. I don't think he knows how to separate that love from the vision of the future he got for me, and so I had to leave.'

There’s a long pause after that, and Kon can’t look at Stray. When Tim finally speaks, his voice is soft.

‘But you’ve done well on your own, haven’t you?’

Kon finally turns to him and grins.

‘Oh yeah! I’ve been to _so many_ places!’

As Kon starts telling him about his many adventures, they fall into step.There’s barely any moonlight that gets through the canopy, but it’s enough for them to see the path. It’s strange how, for Kon, so many memories of Tim are connected to a forest, to being surrounded by ancient trees and to their leaves rustling overhead. 

So much of _him_ is connected to Tim, but Kon doubts that Tim had thought about him much over the years. 

It’s not important, though. Because Tim is laughing at Kon telling him how he _really_ got the bear paw print on his armor (and how much he got his ass kicked by literal bears) and that’s what matters.

‘Gods, that was insane,’ Tim finally manages to say, after a fit of laughter had subdued. ‘Let’s turn back and you can tell me more at a nicer place, maybe a tavern?’

‘What? Why would we turn back? I need to find the Fern Flower!’

Tim stares at Kon in amazement.

‘Fern Flower? What the hell, Highness, Fern Flower doesn’t exist!’

Kon stops, too, to stare back at him.

‘It _has_ to exist! Haven’t you noticed a whole tournament organized around it?!’

‘People organize a lot of weird shit around a lot of old myths,’ Stray huffs. ‘Doesn’t mean it’s all true!’

‘There’s records of people actually finding the flower!’

‘Yeah, and each recorded drawing looks completely different. Also, there are no witnesses’ statements recorded - only the people claiming to have found the flower ever talk about it. Also, no new records have been made in the last, what? Fifty years or so? The statistics given leads to a belief that all of the evidence has been fabricated and thus is untrue. The flower doesn’t exist.’

Kon looks at him for a long moment, trying to determine if he's lying or not. As always, it's extremely difficult to know for sure, with someone like Stray. 

'Okay. Even if it doesn't exist, I gave a promise to do my best to find it. You can turn back though, I think I'll be okay on my own,' Kon grins and gives him a mock salute.

Stray stares at him, incredulous, but Kon doesn't waste any more time, turning around and continuing down the path. 

He's lost enough time, concentrating on Tim more than on anything else. Now it's time to sharpen his senses and focus his main reason to be here. 

Kon closes his eyes and listens closely to the forest around him. He breathes in and out, opening his senses like the monks of the Hidden Order of the Eastern mountain range had taught him. He hears Stray mutter something under his breath, then - the approaching footsteps. Kon smiles a bit at that, but still expands his hearing further.

There's a mouse rustling somewhere in the bushes. There's an owl up high over the ground, only waking up.

There's a soft hum of magic calling to Kon's very core.

He opens his eyes and Tim startles a few steps back.

'Wha- What's happening with your eyes?'

'Did I just hear the famous Stray stutter?' Kon grins. He knows very well that the red glow from his eyes makes his smile eerie. ' _Oh my._ I believe I haven't told you about my training that helped open my powers, haven't I? You'll have to wait for that part of the story, I gotta do some stuff first.'

He takes off as soon as he says it, not giving Tim a chance to answer.

Tim mutters something about Kon still being stubborn as hell, but follows him anyway.

Kon focuses to exclude Stray’s light footsteps out of his focus and expands his hearing down the path. The faint humming of magic calls for his heart, full of magic itself.

As they walk deeper into the forest, the trees grow closer to the path, the darkness brooding over them. Kon can hear tiny footsteps gathering into a small army behind them, and Tim gasping.

‘Don’t look back,’ Kon orders calmly. ‘And stay close to me.’

To his surprise, Stray listens - nearly breathing down his neck while following very closely.

They walk deeper still, a steady stream of small figures following behind them.

A curtain of long vines blocks their way, and Kon opens it to reveal a large clearing.

There’s enough light even for Stray to see properly, and Kon hears him gasp.

The clearing is strewed with flowers. Tiny spheres of light are flowing in the air. There’s all kinds of woodland animals sitting around a blanket made entirely of plants. 

There are two figures at the center of it. Their skin is a patchwork of something human mixed with green moss, and their hair is the color of fire with threads of vines in it, and their heads are wreathed with large antlers. The larger figure has a long green beard, the smaller one has plump rosy lips.

Their eyes can’t be seen.

Or, maybe, there are no eyes to see.

Tiny figures that have been following him and Tim for the last 20 minutes of their walk surround them. They’re the Tiny Folk, or fairies, and Kon’s dealt with them so many times he doesn’t even blink when turning to the two main figures in the middle of the clearing.

‘Blessed be, Lord and Lady,’ Kon says, bowing to the pair. ‘Forgive us for the intrusion, but I have come to your domain to look for the Fern Flower.’

The seemingly male figure gets up and walks up to him, circling him like a hawk. Kon feels Tim jolt forward, but he signals for him to stay back.

 _‘Human boy wants to steal our flower,_ ’ the green man says in a language as old as these woods.

 _‘I do not come here to steal,’_ Kon answers in the same language. _‘And, if you look closer, you may notice that I am not completely a human boy.’_

The man staggers back a little and then stops in front of Kon. He is a head taller than Kon, broader in the shoulders - which doesn’t happen often, Kon is used to being the tallest person in the room. The green man is naked and honestly gorgeous and Kon tries very hard not to stare.

 _‘You know the Old Tongue?’_ a female voice interjects, and the other figure approaches them.

She is naked, too, and her body is beautiful and this is getting very difficult for Kon.

 _‘I speak it rarely, so it’s not perfect. But I try,’_ Kon says, smiling.

‘ _The other boy does not speak your tongue, does he?_ ’

Kon nods and watches as she walks over to Tim, her hips swaying.

‘What is your name?’ the green woman asks, holding Tim’s face in her hands.

‘Alvin,’ Stray replies, smiling a pointedly fake smile.

Kon knows that the woman does not believe him, but then the green man turns Kon’s face towards himself.

‘What is your name?’ he echoes the green woman’s question.

‘People call me Conner,’ Kon smiles

The pair of gods exchanges knowing looks and laughs, but they step away from Tim and Kon without calling out their lies.

‘You amuse us,’ the green man says. ‘You may pass. But be warned - what you humans say about the Fern Flower is not true. It can only fertilize earth, bring prosperity and fertility to the land that fosters it, but it is no miracle. We will not lead you to the flower - listen to its call and it will lead you itself.’

‘That is exactly what I need,’ Kon smiles. ‘Thank you!’

He bows again, and listens to Tim’s clothes rustle behind him when the thief does the same. Another curtain of vines opens on the other side of the clearing and they walk right through it.

The woods are dark again, and Tim stops to blink a few times, his eyes adjusting to the harsh contrast.

Kon doesn’t wait for him, though. He walks on, listening to the hum of magic he can faintly hear. There are other people in the forest now, too - one at the very edge, probably the newly knighted rich noble boy Frederic, who Stray left at the edge to wait. Another - the last warrior of the three, but they are too far from where the flower is and therefore not a threat. The only other person besides him here is Tim, and Kon will make sure to keep an ear out for him.

He finds the legendary Fern Flower by a small creek, among bushes of ferns. The flower is small, and he notices it only because it starts swinging in the light breeze. The flower sits on top of a long wiry stem and has twelve petals - a round of smaller yellow ones inside and a circle of bigger red ones on the outside. As Kon stops to put on his gauntlets, Stray approaches the flower.

‘This is it?’ the thief asks. ‘This little thing is what everyone’s been looking for? I am honestly unimpressed.’

Kon huffs a laugh and pretends not to notice how Stray sneaks a glance back at him, and then reaches out for the flower.

Kon moves swiftly, kicking Tim’s legs out from under him. As soon as Tim falls on his back with a gasp, Kon moves to lean his knee on Tim’s chest, effectively incapacitating him. Stray sputters under him with indignation, but Kon doesn’t pay him much mind, reaching out with his gauntleted hand to pluck the flower.

The flower bursts into flames, but Kon’s gauntlets are fireproof. He waits for the flames to calm, and, as soon as they do, the flower looks not much different from any other plant.

He stands up, leaning his weight on Tim’s chest, and Tim grunts. Kon gives him a pointed look.

‘Make a move towards the flower and I'm leaving you here for the fairies to eat,’ Kon smiles pleasantly. ‘Well, I had to try, right?’ Stray grins. Kon stares at him, unamused, and Tim puts his hands up in the air. ‘Not gonna to anymore, though.’ 

Kon tests him with a long look. Stay smiles apologetically, but his eyes show no remorse. Kon sighs.

‘We’re going to take a shortcut through the forest, so follow me and don’t lag behind.’

‘Lead the way!’

While looking for the flower took them a few hours, getting out of the forest takes only 10 minutes. Kon really likes how impressed Tim looks, so he won’t tell him that their fast passage was granted to them because Kon bribed one of the tiny fairies with a cube of sugar. 

***

When they get back to the crowd that’s still waiting at the area near the gates, Kon hides the flower in his breast pocket and tells the disappointed crowd that he didn’t find anything. The boy who Tim had gone to exchange with stumbles out of the forest a few minutes after, also telling everyone that his search was futile. Kon isn’t sure if Tim is going to make an appearance or is already gone for good, and he stomps down the heavy feeling in his chest. He has an important mission to finish.

There’s bonfires being lit, and drinks shared among the people. The celebration of Beltaine is starting, slowly but steadily, and most of the tournament-goers who arrived with families are retreating to the guest homes on the other side of the town, where the craze of the celebration won’t be heard as much.

Beltaine is a festival of love and fertility. People sing, dance around a maypole and jump over the bonfires, and then leave in pairs or groups. At Beltaine, love is shared without prejudice and stigma, so this is not a place for children.

Kon finds the villagers as they are leaving through the gates that lead to the arena. The blacksmith is standing with support from two sturdy women, but it’s clear that moving is still hard for him. Well, Kon hopes that he’s going to be okay, especially after the news about the flower.

Kon chooses to keep it a secret from the others for a reason. He doesn’t want anyone coming to the village to try and take the flower from them. So he carefully explains how to replant it on their land and that they will have to wait a bit for their village to get back to normal. The woman who’s the head of their village looks skeptical at first, but then the flower starts glowing when Kon passes it to her, and the people around them weep with relief. They leave with smiles on their faces, and Kon can finally relax.

He goes back to the tavern - the meeting place he and Bart agreed on, if they get separated in the crowd. When he arrives, the pirates gang is already pretty drunk, and some of them are missing. He also finds that Bart has usurped the position of this tavern’s bard and him and Lucy are the stars of the evening, having gathered a considerable crowd. Kon waves to Bart and makes his way through the crowd and towards the bar. With a drink in his hand, Kon leans on the counter and sighs, finally relaxing.

Up until a moment later, when a sultry voice starts with:

‘Hey, handsome. Feelin’ lonely?’

Kon’s about to say that he’s not looking for company for the festival, but then he turns to see _Tim_.

The night brightens considerably.

‘You came back?’ he asks, but can’t help a soft smile appearing on his lips.

‘Of course,’ Tim says seriously. ‘You’ve just dragged me through the forest on an impromptu magic quest. You owe me a drink.’

Kon chuckles, but turns to the bartender to order.

‘Not going outside to join the fun?’ he says mockingly, while they wait.

‘What fun? Fucking in the bushes and getting your ass stung by poison ivy?’ Stray snorts. ‘That might’ve been interesting when I was a horny teenager, but I’m an adult now. I’ve spent the last few hours walking around chilly woods - I prefer a warm meal and some mead by the fire to all of that _fun_.’

Kon realizes that he wouldn’t be opposed to eating something, too, and they end up sharing a meal while indeed sitting at the fireplace. Kon makes fun of Tim needing warmth just like cats do and gets a piece of bread thrown at his face for that.

Tim tells him about the novice knight Frederic, whose parents have spirited him away from the celebrations in fear of his honor being tainted, and Tim describes his dismayed face in such a realistic detail that Kon nearly snorts his soup through his nose. They talk a bit about the flower and how Kon gave it to the villagers and Stray can’t help but poke around about Kon’s powers.

‘You did see some of them at their very beginning, didn’t you?’ Kon smiles, not really answering the question. ‘And I think that’s enough for now. Wouldn’t want to give the famous Stray too much advantage over me, would I?’

Tim snorts-laughs, but doesn’t press. They finish their food in compassionate silence, and Tim’s face becomes pensive, something almost bittersweet running over his features, once.

‘You've… Grown,’ he finally says, smiling that rare soft smile of his that Kon’s maybe seen once or twice.

The mood is too serious, so Kon decides to play dumb.

‘I'm the same height as I used to be?’ he says, batting his eyelashes innocently.

Stray laughs. It’s sweet and melodic and Kon missed it.

They don’t touch on any heavy topics after that, and the conversation flows easily. The celebration outside lures more and more people to join, even Bart and a group of his admirers leave, yelling something about not coming back until tomorrow. And then there’s barely any people left in the tavern.

***

‘I’ll be going,’ Tim finally says, when the food and drink are gone, and their conversation fizzled out. ‘I gotta find a place to stay for the night, and all of the hotels are booked.’

‘You don’t have a place to stay? What, your genius planned for every detail about double outfits and timely changes while pretending to be someone else for a day, but not for where to stay?’

Tim flicks him on the arm and Kon laughs. Of course he doesn't feel anything, his biceps are huge and. Also. His skin is almost golden, probably from all of that secret training, details of which he mysteriously does not disclose. There are barely any scars on him, just a few small nicks here and there, and Tim wonders where else the scars may hide on this golden, strong body. 

Okay, Tim needs to stop.

‘I was supposed to stay with the nobles, but they decided to leave the town earlier. Isn’t it just my luck?’ Tim laughs and gets up. ‘Seeing you wasn’t so bad, I guess. Especially I liked the part where you bought me food and I didn’t have to give the money back.’

Kon laughs and gets up, too, and they look at each other for a moment.

‘Okay, I’ll be going, then. Gotta find a place to sleep,’ Tim says, and makes no move to leave.

Kon is a head taller than him.

Kon is looking down on him, without giving Tim the feeling of someone who, you know, figuratively looks down on people.

His smile is soft, and his eyes burn with something hot.

‘Sure, you can go. _Or_ , you could stay,’ Kon says and he sounds so calm and confident Tim almost shivers. ‘I have a room here, all to myself, with a big bed. You could join, if you want to.’

The ex-prince offers him a hand, palm up. Kon’s posture is completely relaxed. He’s not making a move to grab Tim or to touch him in any way, leaving the choice entirely up to him. Like it’s not really that big of a deal, like he’s either way going to be fine if Tim agrees or refuses.

Tim looks up into his deep blue eyes and finds himself unable to look away.

‘Okay,’ he agrees simply, putting his hand into Kon’s.

Kon’s hand is much bigger than his. It’s also warmer, and the touch encompasses Tim with the same calm confidence that he finds so captivating in Conner. 

He can’t believe how much he changed, even though his kindness stayed the same.

Kon’s thumb gently stokes Tim’s hand, once, and then he carefully tugs him towards the staircase that leads to the second floor.

They walk hand in hand, Tim letting the other man lead him.

Then they enter the room and the door closes behind them with a creak. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fern flower is a part of my country's folklore, and in some versions of myths it also gives you the ability to speak to animals. 
> 
> this fic and my online presence will be on hiatus for a month - I'm beginning a very intense course and I have been promised y friends who attended that I will barely have time to eat or sleep while doing it 🤷♂️ 
> 
> I am 100% not abandoning this fic, even though I've been struggling lately. So pls leave your comments, they're a remedy for a writer's aching heart!


	6. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim and Kon meet again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *that JVN gif* cAn yOu BeLieVe?!
> 
> It's back, baby!
> 
> I'm not having the best time of my life atm, but I've never stopped writing this. It just took me a while to force myself to write more than one sentence per week.
> 
> But it's back, and oh, how I've missed Heartless! I hope you have, too! Enjoy ~
> 
> TWs like emotional abuse are probably applicable here, but, if you can think of something better - tell me!

✦ 5 ✦  
  


When Conner wakes up the next morning, he's alone in the room. The bed beside him, where Tim was when he fell asleep last night, is cold. Kon sighs and gets up, to pick up his clothes that were thrown all over the floor last night. 

He's pulling up his pants when the door opens and a swirl of movement that is an excited Bart knocks into him.

'Kon!' Bart greets, clutching Conner's shoulders with a bit too much force.

'Bart!' Kon yelps. 'Knock!!' 

'Oh please, as if I haven't seen your butt before. Like that time when a manticore bit you? Remember, it bit you right on the-' 

'Okay, okay, shut up!' 

Bart grins and plops down on the edge of the bed, kicking his legs like an excited kid.

'Soooooooooooooooo,' the bard starts, and Kon groans internally, 'you said you didn't wanna celebrate Beltaine, but then I saw you leaving with a guy and bringing him to this room.'

It only now occurs to Kon that he and Bart share the room, and that maybe Bart wanted to come back and sleep last night.

'Shit, you saw that? Sorry, if you wanted to come back here and I-' 

'Eh, relax! I didn't wanna sleep, I came back to get a drink and then went back out! Did you know that Otto' s pirates have angelic singing voices?!'

Kon knows this is the perfect moment to get Bart invested into talking about music and not about the person Conner spent the night with, so he feigns interest.

'Oh, really? From the way they look, I wouldn't have expected that.' 

'Conner!' Bart gasps. 'You know you can't just expect people to be the same on the outside as they are on the inside! Otto' s crew is so talented! They're gorgeous and they work so well together it's like a choir! And- Wait! I got distracted, you got me distracted on purpose!'

Bart tries to kick Kon, but Kon evades, laughing.

'Not fair!' Bart pouts. 

'It's not my fault you're so easily distracted!' Kon shrugs.

Bart hops onto the bed, trying to level his height with Kon's. He almost succeeds, now being just half a head shorter. The bard boops Kon on the nose, fierce determination burning in his eyes. 

'Okay, no more distractions! Why are you being so secretive? Who was that guy you left with?' 

'It was just-' Kon tries to sound nonchalant, but his voice cracks at one point, and he has to start again, 'it was actually Tim?'

There is a pause as Bart blinks at him owlishly. Then, Bart latches at him, the bed giving him a tactical advantage. 

'It was him??!! ' Bart screeches, shaking Conner, 'It was him and you didn’t introduce us?!!!' 

Kon tries to smile, but he's not sure if it's enough to fool Bart. 

'I don't think he wanted to be introduced to anyone.'

Bart looks confused. 

'Wait, you two just shared a bed, like we usually do?'

'Oh, no, not like _we_ do. Me and him did have sex.'

'Can't relate,' Bart makes a face. 'But I respect your right to go around expertly seducing people.'

'Hey! Don't make me sound like some kind of a _seducer_ , I'm not!'

'Well, you did date Cassie for a few months, a feat no mortal man has been worthy of before,' Bart shrugs. 'So you're doing pretty great!'

Kon looks away and can’t help but cross his arms over his chest.

'Well,’ he says, bitterness slipping into his voice, ‘It wasn't enough to make him stay though.'

Bart's hand squeezes his shoulder. 

'Aw, Konnie, don't be sad. Maybe something happened? I'm sure he had some kind of an emergency and had to run!'

Bart sounds cheery and optimistic, and a lot of people think him dumb because of his always-positive behavior. Those people are idiots, because Kon knows that Bart is tracking and analyzing every movement of his with those worried, golden-colored eyes. 

Kon shrugs unenthusiastically.

'It doesn't matter,' he says in a voice that shows that it does, 'Let's go eat.' 

Food is something that always makes Bart happy so it's not really surprising that he emits a loud, excited cheer. The next thing he does is jump on Kon's back, and the unexpected weight almost makes Kon topple over. He grumbles at the bard, but grips his legs to hold him steady and gives him a piggyback ride to the tavern hall downstairs. The warmth of a body on his back makes him feel more grounded and Kon is grateful for the way Bart squeezes his neck in a hug.

They eat their meal, take their time to pack their things, doing it rather slowly. They go back to the first floor and order some beer to drink before setting out. Kon drinks his beer and keeps looking at the door.

But Stray doesn’t come back - not an hour or two after.

Bart definitely notices Kon’s lingering gaze, but he doesn’t call him out for that. But Conner can’t keep him here forever, clinging to the useless hope that Stray would walk into the room again.

Kon and Bart leave the town of Talwyren and move on with their journey. 

***

Nearly half a year passes before Kon meets Stray again. 

It happens because Conner, as the famous Red Bear of the East, is asked to join a hunt for a dragon. 

Kon doesn’t care for the hunt. He thinks that hunting dragons is immoral, they are intelligent creatures and are on the verge of extinction, and they deserve better than that.

But then, an old man who called himself Vern and was the one who asked him to join, tells him that there are more parties gathering to participate in the Hunt. He also tells Kon that there’s a rumor that one of the prospect hunters, a prince who’s in the tenth line of succession to the throne, has hired a skilled _advisor_ to help him.

Kon doesn’t know _how_ he knows, but he does.

It could’ve been anyone, really.

But as he turns to the entrance of the tavern, he knows deep down in his soul that he is going to see Tim.

Just as Kon turns, Stray steps through the door.

Tim’s hair has gotten longer, and there are beads braided into it. He’s wearing a long black coat lined with fur on the collar, bottom and on the edges of the sleeves. There’s masterful embroidery done with a silver thread. He looks like a prince from a fairy-tale and not at all like a thief.

Time slows down, then freezes completely when their eyes meet.

His eyes are dark like the sea at storm - gods, Kon had _dreamed_ about them, trying to define their color, compared them to gemstones and dark night sky, looked for them in every stranger.

But then, Tim looks away. There’s a man beside him, in a shiny armor and with a crest full of lions and flames on his chest. Kon can’t see the man’s face from this angle, but he can see his arm that the man offers to Tim. He takes the man’s arm and follows him to a table on the opposite side of the tavern.

Kon looks away.

'So, we'll be going, then,' Bart says, when Kon is still too stunned for words. 'Thank you for the food!' 

Bart stands up, pushing some more food into his mouth and pockets. But Kon is still sitting, rooted to the spot.

'We accept,' he says. 

Bart turns to him, surprised. He looks at Kon, not really understanding what's going on. 

The man, Vern, smiles a knowing smile that has too many teeth in it. He extends his hand to Kon and the monster hunter accepts it. The old man’s handshake is surprisingly strong.

'I knew you'd see the benefit in joining me,' the man says as they shake on it. 

Kon is doing his best _not_ to look at Tim somewhere in the tavern, but Bart squints at him suspiciously and starts looking around. Kon rushes to his feet. 

'The Hunt begins at dawn, right? We'd rather sleep until then.' 

Kon grabs Bart by the elbow and drags him away from the tavern hall.

'What's gotten into you?!' Bart asks, trying to wiggle out of Kon's hold. 'Why did you change your mind?!' 

'The man did say he doesn't plan on killing the dragon,' Kon shrugs, taking great pains to leave his face hidden from Bart so the bard wouldn't see his expression.

'There's something else,' Bart adds, perceptive as always. 

‘Good night, Bart,’ Kon says, falling into the bed and covering himself with a blanket, thus hiding effectively from the conversation.

***

There are four teams taking part in the Dragon Hunt. Aside from the team Kon agreed to join, there are: a ragtag group of humans, seven dwarves from the same clan, and a prince with his _advisor_.

Kon tries not to stare at Tim, he really does. But the teams are traveling together and there's only one road toward the mountain where the dragon was spotted. They end up following each other in a line, and conversations get started, people get introduced. Conner is aggressively refusing to remember the prince's name, especially after the Incident. On their way to their first campfire, a hirikka jumps out of the bushes, scaring Bart. Before Kon has a chance to explain that the hirikka is not carnivorous, that it was just begging for scraps and was probably hungry, the prince yells and chops the creature to pieces. It’s wails of pain get burned into Kon’s memory like a brand. Vern and his bodyguards have to physically hold Kon back. 

At one point, Kon thinks that he sees disgust on Tim's face, but it's gone in a moment, concern taking its place, and Tim's at the prince's side, wiping the blood off his face. 

As the night draws closer, most of the teams share bonfires and sit together, telling stories. The good-for-nothing prince tells everyone, for the tenth time that day, that he is going to take the throne as soon as he defeats the dragon and that his victory will bring their kingdom _glory_ (a word that Kon is _so tired_ of hearing). Tim's looking at the stupid prince constantly, his whole attention is the prince's, and Tim's encouraging voice is soft and supportive.

'And Todd is going to be my most trusted advisor!' the prince nods to Tim, using the stupid name Stray has chosen for himself. 'He will take his place at the Court by my side, right where he belongs!' 

'Your Highness, my humble place is to serve you,' Stray says, looking down timidly. 

Kon remembers how mocking 'Your highness' sounded when Tim addressed him all those years ago and has to stop himself from hitting the prince square in the face. The fact that the prince leaves the campfire to go to his tent exactly as the thought crosses Kon’s mind helps them both.

As the prince leaves, one of the men from the human team walks up to them, pretending to be interested in keeping the bonfire lit. Instead, he looks up at Stray.

‘How would you like to serve _me_ tonight,’ the man grins his filthy grin.

The man puts a hand on the log Tim’s sitting on, close to his knee. Kon reaches for his sword, but, before he has a chance to get it, Tim's hand flies up and a dagger hidden in his sleeve pierces the man's hand through. The crook screams. Tim holds the dagger, not letting the man free his hand. 

'My body is not for sale,' Tim says levely, giving the man a polite but chilly smile, while turning the dagger, 'kindly find somebody else.'

When Tim lets go of the dagger, the man jumps away from him, holding his bleeding hand close to his chest and sneering. His team gets closer, offended by the way their apparent leader was treated. Kon jumps to his feet without thinking, taking out his sword. 

The human team steps away. Kon turns to see the others - all of the dwarves, Vern and his two bodyguards and even Bart - standing up, too. Only Tim remains seated, his luxurious cloak like a monarch’s cape around him.

‘We see how smug ye’r gonna look when we take down the dragon and collect the king’s reward!’ the leader of the human team sneers, as they back down. ‘Then you’d wish you were my whore, but I won’t take you!’

Tim does not dignify that with a reply - he just rolls his eyes in annoyance.

‘I’ll be retiring for the night,’ he says instead to the two teams that sprung up to his defence, ‘do continue your evening without me.’

He passes Kon without even sparing him a glance, Tim’s head held high.

‘He coulda at least said _thank you_ ,’ grumbles the dwarves’ leader. ‘Guess we gotta be _retirin’_ , too.’

The teams wander off toward their camps, but Bart stays behind with Kon.

Bart’s eyes are serious and glimmer gold.

‘You know him,’ he states rather than asks. ‘You know him and he’s no advisor, and his name is not Todd.’

Kon opens his mouth and closes it, no sound coming out - he’s not sure how much he can say, and if he should say anything at all.

‘It’s okay,’ Bart says, patting Kon’s arm. ‘You don’t have to say anything. Just from the way you look at him, I can guess who he is.’

Bart leaves Kon at the bonfire to try and decipher what the hell the bard meant by that.

*** 

The next morning, most of the people in the camp are woken up by a scream, followed by a string of angry curses. It turns out that one of the dwarves found the prince in the bushes, the young man's throat slit open. Bart gasps, saying something about there being nothing sacred anymore, but Kon can’t forgive the mindless cruelty dealt to the hirikka.

'Fuck!' Tim swears, all of his softness and gentleness of manners forgotten. 'Which motherfucker killed my _bloody escort_ before it accomplished the only fucking thing it was good for?!' 

‘The rogues are gone,’ Vern says, nodding at the trail his bodyguards found. Bart scoffs, showing his displeasure, and the dwarves mutter something about nothing being holy under the sky anymore.

‘Listen,’ the dwarves’ leader says to Vern, ‘we know a path that can lead us up the mountain faster, and we can take you with us. After what those Rogues did, it’s only fair we take advantage. But as soon as we’re at the top - every dwarf is for themselves!’

Vern agrees and they shake on it. As Bart packs his backpack, Conner watches Tim. Tim, who grabs his belongings hastily, turns around and walks into the opposite direction of where the team is about to head. Kon grabs his own bag and starts after him. 

'I'll catch up to you in a bit,' he tells Bart, who's about to stop him.

He hears the bard urge the team to go on, laughing off the worries. But Kon's whole attention is solely on Tim. 

'Wait! Where are you going? The dwarves said they can lead us through a shortcut! Wait!' 

He catches up to Tim when they're out of earshot and out of sight of the others, all alone in the middle of the ravine. Conner's fingers are about to close on Tim's shoulder, when Tim turns around, his coat and hair flying furiously. 

'What. Do. You. Want?!' he demands through clenched teeth.

'I just want to help!'

‘I don’t need your help!’

‘I think you _really_ do.’

'I can take care of myself!' Tim exclaims. 

'You don’t always have to,' Kon says softly.

Is it him, or does something tender, almost vulnerable pass through Stray's face? No matter - even if it does, it passes quickly, like it was never there.

'Why did you come here?' Conner tries carefully. 

'Surely not for you,' Stray laughs and it's cruel. 

Kon tries to pretend that it doesn't hurt. 

'I'm here for the dragon, of course,' Stray continues, fixing his hair in an irritated manner. 'Just like everybody else is.'

'What would you even want with a dragon? They're intelligent creatures, and there's not many left in the wild, would it be better to just-' 

'That's exactly why a dragon's heart costs it's weight in gold, multiplied by two,' Tim says bluntly. 

'You can't be serious!'

'I am. I _so_ am. I'm here for the money, because that’s the only thing that matters.' 

Tim pushes by him, but Kon won’t leave him alone.

‘Please, let me come with you?’ Kon beggs, grabbing Tim’s shoulder. ‘Let me show you what dragons really are, let me change your mind!’

Stray shrugs off his hand violently.

‘And what are you going to do when I don’t agree with you, huh?’ he snarls. ‘Force me to do what you want?’

There’s so much anger in Stray’s eyes - anger, and challenge - that Conner steps away.

‘I would never force you to do anything,’ he says carefully, levelly, ‘that you wouldn’t want to do. But _maybe_ I could change your mind. _Maybe_ , If we talk, if you see how incredible dragons can be!’

Stray’s face, full of anger, goes through a wide range of changes. Finally, the expression softens. He raises his arm to stroke his cheek.

‘Oh, your highness,’ Stray says, and it’s almost gentle, ‘aren’t you _a romantic_.’

Tim takes his hand away almost the next moment, but Conner’s face burns where he was touched. Kon watches as Tim takes a step away from him, his face pensive - and Kon doesn’t dare breathe too loudly, not to disturb his thinking.

‘Okay,’ he says finally, ‘Didn’t you say that the dwarves can lead toward some hidden pathway in the mountains? I can allow you to lead me there, and then we’ll see how it goes.’ 

‘That’s all I could ask for,’ Kon grins in reply.

Tim not so much as follows Kon, but makes his own way up into the mountains, and they catch up with the others fairly quickly.

Kon braces himself for their reaction, but the dwarves merely shrug, saying that as long as it’s not the Rogues from the human team, they don’t care. Bart looks at them with a look that’s difficult to read, Vern’s bodyguards don’t dignify Tim with anything longer than a glance, and the smile on the man’s face makes Kon squirm. Having joined the group, Tim still walks a few steps away from them, as if trying to separate himself from the teams. He’s also not really looking at Kon anymore.

Vern uses that to walk up to Kon and strike up a conversation.

‘Worried if you blink you’ll never see him again,’ the man says, nodding at Tim. ‘You’re in love with him.’

Kon doesn’t dignify that with an answer. He really doesn’t think there’s anything he can add to it. 

Instead, he goes to Bart.

‘Did you two make up?’ his friend murmurs to him, a smile on Bart’s lips not much different from Vern’s. ‘Are you going to be dating now?’

‘Bart!’ Kon almost hisses at him, ‘we didn’t fight! And so we didn’t need to make up. And no, we’re not dating, we’re just- Um.’

He pauses, because he’s not even sure what he’s supposed to say. What are they to each other? Friends? Casual lovers? Are they even anything?

‘Okay, keep your secrets,’ Bart says, with the most shit-eating grin Kon’s ever seen.

Conner shoulders past him, because he doesn’t have to tolerate that kind of treatment from someone who calls himself his friend.

He’s glad that the next turn of the path takes the team to a flimsy-looking mountain trail over a steep cliff. It’s made of really unreliable pieces of wood held together by what looks like the hope alone. There’s also some rusty chains nailed to the mountainside, and they are supposedly there to serve as a handle. The uneven path takes everybody’s attention from their apparent goal to bully Kon.

‘We’re gonna die,’ Bart says, when he looks at the wooden steps of the path. ‘This thing is like a thousand years old and half-rotten, and we’re definitely gonna die.’ 

‘Ya’ll be fine,’ the dwarves’ leader laughs, passing by and taking the first step onto the bridge.

Tim follows the dwarf team next, and Bart goes after him, surprising Kon. He follows the bard, and Vern with his bodyguards go after him, the last ones from their team.

Bart gets uncomfortably close to Tim and sticks his left hand out for a handshake, dangerously grabbing the chains holding the bridge with only one hand. 

'Hi, I'm Bart!' the bard whispers loudly to Tim. 

Stray looks at him, then - at the outstretched hand. The look on Tim's face is a mixture of bewilderment and wonder, like he's been approached by a talking frog.

The lack of response does not discourage Bart at all. 

'I'm Conner's best friend!' he continues. 'I'm also responsible for the most popular song in the whole nine kingdoms, the one about the Bear of the East! Have you heard it? I'm sure you have! It was how we met, you know, when Conner-' 

Bart continues blabbering, even though Tim does not make any effort to participate in the conversation. Instead, Stray seems to quicken his pace, which, in turn, makes Bart walk faster, and also start talking faster and louder, to be heard over the cruel gusts of the wind.

When asked later, Kon’s not sure what exactly caused the collapse of the path, but that’s how it happens - the wind is becoming more and more cruel, and the bridge is shaking, and maybe Bart and Tim are walking too fast, and at one point the plank under Vern’s feet breaks. The man falls, so do the two bodyguards that were walking beside him and had the wood break under their feet in the unlucky chain reaction.

Kon manages to catch the end of the chain that Vern is still holding, and stops the fall.

The planks under his feet groan under the combined weight of four people. There’s screams behind Kon, and there’s the old man’s face looking up at him with a knowing, calm smile.

‘It’s okay,’ Vern says. ‘You’ve done enough. You can let go.’

‘No!’ Kon yells.

The wood under his feet creaks some more and the wind is unforgivably cold and strong. Kon sways as the weight pulls him a few inches down. Hands grab him from behind and tug, and Stray screams into his ear, ‘Kon, let go!! The trail won’t hold, are you trying to die?!’

The planks under Conner start tilting down, creaking ominously.

Vern looks Kon in the eye.

‘Thank you,’ he says.

And lets go of the chain.

The two bodyguards follow him mere seconds after, throwing themselves into the endless pit after their boss.

Kon screams, but he’s also being pulled back, as the wood under him splinters and breaks. He comes back to his senses when he realizes that he’s been dragged through the whole path and to the solid ground on the other side of the abyss.

He also realizes that Tim’s yelling at him and that his shoulder stings, like he’s been punched.

‘What the fuck were you thinking?’ Stray is visibly fuming with anger. ‘Were you trying to die and take everyone on that path with you?!’

Tim tries to kick him, but is stopped by Bart before the kick connects.

‘I know you’re upset,’ Bart says calmingly, an understanding smile on his face, ‘I also got very scared that something might happen to Conner! But you don’t have to be so mean to him, just because you got scared.’

‘I didn’t _get scared_ ,’ Tim snarls at the bard. ‘I literally don’t give a damn, I. Don’t. Care!’

The dwarves laugh at that, and Stray storms off to the side of the plateau they’re on, to set up his tent and to mutter under his nose angrily.

‘He got really worried for you, you know,’ Bart says, carefully maneuvering Kon toward the other side, where their belongings are. ‘Literally leapt over me to get to you and to pull you back.’

Kon’s not sure if he has it in him to be glad about that - he feels numb, devoid of all emotions. It’s good that Bart is there, that the bard knows him so well, and, instead of demanding answers, he just settles on talking as he prepares their sleeping bags for the night. Then, he helps Kon get into his sleeping bag and pats his hair as the monsterhunter closes his eyes.

‘You didn’t do anything wrong today,’ Bart whispers. ‘You tried your best to save them and it’s not your fault that you couldn’t. Sleep now. Tomorrow will get better.’

***

Tomorrow starts with Kon waking up because his sensitive hearing picks up some rustling nearby. He sits up and watches Stray gather his things. When Tim’s just about to leave, Kon speaks up.

‘I thought thieves were supposed to be more sneaky,’ he says and watches in amusement how Stray jumps.

‘Well, it turns out that dwarves are even more sneaky,’ Tim says, sounding annoyed. 

Kon looks around to see that the dwarves who lead them here are no longer on the campgrounds. He swears and jumps to his feet.

‘What?’ he says, when Stray eyes him gathering his things and starting after him. ‘Do you think I’ll let you go to face a whole dragon alone? You’ll need backup, and your ‘escort’ is no longer with you - so I’ll be it.’

Stray stares at him for a moment too long, his face unreadable. Then, he shrugs.

‘Okay,’ is all he says before running up the mountain path that leads toward the dragon’s lair.

Kon follows him at a steady pace, and, while he does, his mind reels with questions and memories. He remembers all of the conversations he’s had with Vern, how they discussed life and dragons, how the old man approved of Kon’s decision to protect, and not hurt, the magical creatures he’s encountered on his way. He thinks about how nice it was to have an older man who could’ve been the age of his grandparents if he had any, support his decisions and choices in life.

He doesn’t have time for his grief. He needs to shut up about it and follow Tim, before the thief kills himself because of his endless lust for money.

As they approach the dwarves, Stray plucks a vial from his pocket, and throws it at the team’s feet. Green vines sprout from the ground where the vial broke, catching the dwarves in their grip and nailing them to the ground. Stray sprints past them, and Kon murmurs a soft apology as he follows the thief.

They charge into the cave where the dragon is supposed to be, their weapon at the ready, and stop in their tracks. 

The two women, the bodyguards of Vern’s, the ones who fell to their deaths not a day ago, stand in front of a body of a green dragon. The dragon’s tail is curled around a glowing, golden egg.

‘Is it sleeping?’ for some reason is what Tim thinks is the best question to be asked here.

 _‘She_ ,’ one of the women snarls. ‘And she’s dead.’

A great, mighty roar sounds from the upper side of the cave. Strong wings raise gushes of wind as a large golden dragon descends from the sky.

‘Holy shit,’ Tim whispers under his breath, sounding awed. ‘Golden dragons actually exist?’

Conner catches Tim’s hand and points his dagger away.

‘Golden dragons can turn into humans,’ he says, not tearing his eyes away from the dragon.

‘The monsterhunter and his thief,’ Vern’s voice sounds in Kon’s head, and, from the way Tim jerks, he knows that Tim can hear it, too. ‘We meet again.’

Tim swears under his breath, more shocked than angry, but Kon doesn’t - the moment he lay his eyes on the dragon, he somehow knew who that was, knew that Vern wasn’t dead.

‘You’ve signed up for the hunt to protect the dragon and her egg,’ Kon states the obvious.

‘Yes,’ Vern in his golden dragon glory says, ‘I have heard her cry and knew she needed help. We wanted to keep our enemies close, so we joined the hunt and employed the monster hunter who cares so much for his monsters that he tries to save them instead of killing them.’

There’s obvious approval and pride in the dragon’s voice, and Kon feels all happy and tingly inside because of it.

‘The egg cannot be moved,’ one of the bodyguards adds.

‘If it is,’ the other one continues, ‘the life inside it dies.’

Rushed footsteps interrupt what they were going to say next as the last team of humans, the one that took a longer route after they followed the dwarves, enters the cave. The man who’s put his disgusting hand on Tim’s knee and, most likely, was the one to kill the stupid prince who followed the thief, is at the head of the procession.

‘Oh,’ the man grins nastily, taking in the scene, ‘it looks like I’ve gotta fuck up the whole family.’

Kon starts toward him, but Tim pushes him aside.

‘He’s mine,’ he snarls, pulling out the second dagger.

The fight starts without the two teams even discussing it - instead, the dragon team and both Tim and Kon rush to protect the egg and the innocent life inside it. Stray rips his fur cloak off, revealing a leather costume underneath - it allows for more movements, precisely the ones that help him kick collective ass with grace and deadly precision. The way Kon and Tim fit against each other, know each other's movements like they've always been like this, like they've fought back to back a dozen of times and will do that a dozen more, makes Conner's heart soar. 

The fight is ugly, but fast. Not ten minutes after it's started, it's already over. Stray leans on Conner, breathless. Then, he catches himself doing that and steps away.

They shake off the tiredness and walk back into the cave just in time to see the golden dragon breath fire on the egg. 

'What are you doing?!' Tim yelps, starting toward the dragon.

One of the bodyguards catches him by the shoulder. 

'Stop,' the woman says. 'Look.' 

Both Kon and Tim watch as the egg cracks, glowing from the inside. A tiny creature crawls out of it, it's roar sounding more like a kitten mewling. The little dragon's scales glint golden in the few sunbeams that reach the cave.

Tim couches down, sits on his haunches, and extends his arm toward the newly born creature. The tiny dragon nibbles on his fingers with his toothless mouth and Tim chuckles softly. 

'You’re not as heartless as you like to pretend to be,' Kon laughs, watching him. 

Stray gives him a withering look and takes his hand away from the baby dragon.

'Oh, I am,' he says unpleasantly.

Bart runs into the cave right then, and Kon has to go to his disbelieving, shocked best friend to explain to him what’s happened in the mere 30 or so minutes that Bart spent away from him. As he does that, Vern manifests behind him, in his human form for a change, and goes to talk to dwarves. It turns out that Bart freed them from the vines that held them and that the dwarves are pretty angry about Stray trapping them and about missing ‘all of the fun’ here in the fight. Vern proposes the dwarves take dragon teeth to the King who offered the bounty, and adds a promise to drop the whole dead dragon on the King’s head if the man does not believe the dwarves. They agree gleefully to ask no questions and take their reward, leaving the others as easily as they entered the Hunt.

Vern smiles at them when they leave, then turns to Kon. All he does is throw a bag of coins at him, and nod in acknowledgement. Then, the old man - no, the old dragon - enters the cave again, and his warrior bodyguards stay at the entrance, cutting off the way for any trespassers. 

This leaves Kon, Bart and Tim standing on the windy mountain edge, unsure of what to do next.

‘So,’ Bart breaks the awkward silence, rolling his shoulders as if he’s about to undertake another quest, ‘what are we gonna do next?’

Kon realizes that the bard is talking to him.

‘We need to go back to the village. Our horses are there,’ he answers.

Bart nods, uncharacteristically silent. His eyes are trained on Tim, who’s turned his back to them and is currently pretending to be busy with his things.

‘You could come with us, you know,’ Bart calls out to the thief.

Tim doesn’t seem to realize that Bart is talking to him, which does not stop Bart at all - the bard just waltzes up to Stray and taps him on the shoulder, repeating his question quite insistently.

Stray thinks for a long moment.

‘You’re buying me dinner,’ he nods at Kon and picks up his bags.

Bart whoops happily, jumping up and spinning on his axis in the air. The move is showy and slow, and Bart keeps himself up in the air long enough for the magic of it to be obvious. 

‘You have strange friends,’ Tim comments, when their small group of three starts walking down the mountain path, this time a much less dangerous one.

‘Yeah,’ Kon agrees with a smile, looking at Bart affectionately.

Tim tsks, but follows them anyway.

***

The dragon hunt was a complete disaster and Tim’s not even sure who to blame that on. He needed a fresh dragon heart, and the green dragon couldn’t have provided that, being dead for a day or so. The golden one was too big to take on alone, and Tim had no allies in the group - he didn’t completely trust Conner not to turn on him, no matter what the man said about not getting in Tim’s way. The worst of all, he’d have had to fight Conner’s disappointed stare, the prospect of which, for some reason, filled him with dread when he thought about it. The newly born dragon wasn’t an option at all - after all, even Tim has standards and it’s not like he would kill a child, no matter what species that child was.

So he ends up on the road to the nearest town, with the ex-prince and his overly chatty bard friend as company. He’s failed miserably at his mission, so the least he can do is fool the idiot prince into spending his coin on Tim’s lodgings and food. The most difficult part was to tune out the blabbering bard, who was testing Tim’s patience by insistently trying to talk to him.

Tuning it out becomes easier as Tim focuses on his failure. He calculates how much he’s lost, how he’d have to expand his earnings for the next month to cover this one’s loss. He’d have to look for another job, another impossible quest to complete. He wonders if he’d even have time to sleep. The numbers in his head fill him with dread.

Tim keeps thinking about it as they enter the inn they’re about to stay in, continues to do so as he follows the ex-prince and his friend to the rooms given to them - the bard opts for staying in a single room, while aggressively winking at Kon when he and Tim bring their things into a room with two single beds. Tim tries not to let it bother him - that Conner has told somebody else about him. He wonders briefly if poisoning the bard could be an option to keep Tim’s secrets, well, _secret_ , but dismisses the thought quickly - after the bard's shown off his magic abilities, Tim’s no longer sure he knows all there is about what kind of magical creature he is, so taking on an enemy if you don’t know everything there is to know about their abilities would be foolish. He’s always been taught against being foolish in battle. 

The thoughts about the gold lost won’t leave him be, so he tries to drown them in wine. Tim’s never been a big fan of getting drunk, but today just seems bad enough to warrant it. He loudly tells the bartender that the famous Red Bear of the East is here and will be paying for everything - which brings the whole inn’s attention to Conner, effectively cutting off the man’s path toward Tim. People with almost fanatical glint in their eyes, men and women alike, surround Kon, leaving Tim to drink away his sorrows in peace.

He’s on the second bottle when Conner breaks away from his fans and joins him at the counter.

‘That was a shitty thing to do,’ Conner says, sitting on Tim’s right and stealing his glass of wine. ‘I didn’t plan anyone to know who I am.’

‘Well, that makes two of us,’ Tim replies, letting bitterness seep into his voice. When the ex-prince doesn’t seem to understand when Tim means, he adds, ‘I didn’t want your bard knowing who I am, either, but here we are.’

Conner’s face becomes serious, concerned even.

‘I didn’t mean to tell him. When I did, it was because of a truth serum I got poisoned with, and even then, we were the only ones in the hearing range. And Bart gave me his word to never tell a soul about what he’s heard.’

‘Oh yeah, because someone’s word can be trusted,’ Tim snorts, taking his wine back and finishing the glass in one gulp.

‘Bart gave an oath. A magical one. He won’t tell anyone, even if they torture him.’

Tim looks at Kon’s serious face. He doesn’t know why, but something tells him that Kon’s not lying.

‘Oh,’ Tim says, just to break the awkward pause. ‘Okay.’

He pours himself another glass of wine and drinks it, just to have something to do with his hands. Kon’s face is pensive, and it feels like he’s bracing himself, gearing up to say something. As the ex-prince opens his mouth, a young blonde walks up to him, asking him for a dance. She won’t take no for an answer, and Kon isn’t immune to the kicked puppy look she’s pulling, so he excuses himself and goes to the middle of the room to dance. There’s other dancers, too, and the music is cheerful and loud, and Tim wonders how he hasn’t noticed. He promises himself to be better, to become more alert and to watch everyone better.

His eyes settle on Conner, the man’s large figure looming over the others’. Despite the man’s mass of muscles, Conner turns out to be a graceful dancer. He whirls the petite blonde in the dance and Tim’s eyes focus on every place their skin meets, on every instance when Kon grabs the woman’s waist too tightly.

Tim doesn’t like her. She’s a far worse dancer than Kon is.

Tim drinks another glass of wine.

Technically, he could do better. He can dance much better than _that_.

‘So go dance,’ the bard’s voice sounds at his ear.

Tim turns swiftly to see the bard’s happy face covered with freckles grin at him. The bard must’ve heard him talk to himself - Tim refuses to feel bad about it. Bard is the one who should be embarrassed, he’s the one who’s eavesdropped.

‘Maybe I will,’ Tim says stubbornly and gets up.

He makes way through the dance floor and people make way for him. He walks up to Kon and the blonde he’s dancing with and looks at them expectantly, until the two of them stop to look at him. When they do, Tim untangles the girl’s arms away from Kon’s neck and pulls her away from him.

‘You can go,’ he tells her dismissively.

Tim takes Kon’s hand and pulls him toward the dancing crowd. Kon doesn't seem to mind.

After some initial fumbling, they fall into the dance easily, like they’ve always been like this. Kon’s hands on him are strong but gentle, and the press on them on Tim’s hips feels grounding.

It’s fun. He doesn’t remember when was the last time he’s had fun. They grin at each other, they laugh. It feels like a sugar rush.

Tim lets Kon lead for a while, and then switches their roles, taking the lead himself. As he dips Kon in the dance, supporting him by holding his shoulder, the prince’s face flushes and he is looking up at Tim with an open and starry-eyes expression on his face and his lips are slightly parted.

He has a nice mouth. Tim knows what that mouth is capable of.

Tim’s been staring for too long. 

He straightens Kon and takes a tiny step away, to make space for himself. He needs to breathe, he needs to think, he needs to…

He needs to pay more attention to his surroundings - because just now it was either his imagination, or a familiar cloak of green and gold lurking in the corner of the inn.

There’s a loud sound of someone clearing their throat near him, and it sounds like it’s not the first time the person had done that. Tim turns to see a short man with bald spots on his scalp and recognizes the inn owner.

‘Someone’s asking for you,’ the man hands Tim a ring - it’s golden, with a green emerald in the middle. ‘He said you’ll understand.’

Tim’s fingers close around the ring almost involuntary. The metal feels cold on his palm, and Tim’s stomach drops with the same cold, almost slimy feeling.

‘Lead the way,’ he says. For Kon, he adds, ‘don’t wait up.’

Tim tries to concentrate on his steps instead of the feeling that is stirred in him by this ring. He feels like he’s sobering up just because he’s terrified out of his mind. The inn doesn’t seem inviting or warm anymore - Tim feels like all life has been extinguished in it, like an unneeded candle.

When he enters a secluded room of the posh house just a street away from the inn, the smell of heavy, suffocating perfumes greats him before the man standing by the window does.

‘Timothy,’ a man in a green and golden cloak says, turning to him, dramatic as ever.

‘Ra’s,’ Tim replies, willing his voice not to shake.

Ra’s al Ghul walks up to him to stand uncomfortably close. Tim does not dare take a step back, no matter how much he wants to.

‘You have failed to procure the dragon’s heart,’ the man states. 

Tim doesn’t know how Ra’s found out, but he’s no longer surprised by it - after all, the man always knows about Tim’s movements, follows them with deadly accuracy, and never fails to mention how much he knows, to make sure that Tim does not forget about that.

As if he ever could.

As if Tim ever spent a day not thinking about it.

‘I’ll do better next month,’ Tim promises. ‘I’ll deliver all of the money, doubled.’

‘No,’ Ra’s says and Tim’s stomach sinks. ‘You’ll need to do better than that. Three times more will suffice, I think.’

‘B-but, we’ve agreed, we had a deal!’

Ra’s extends his hand and grabs Tim’s face by the chin, his fingers coarse and unkind. 

‘We have. And now I’m changing it, because you haven’t delivered on your promises,’ Ra’s says, jerking his chin up to meet his eyes. ‘I don’t want to do this to you, Timothy, but you’ve brought it on yourself. This is your penalty for being so fickle.’

‘I,’ Tim stammers, ‘I wasn’t-’

Ra’s nails bite into his skin for a brief moment, and then the man lets him go.

‘Oh, you _so_ were. I saw you. And, really? In some godforsaken inn, drinking and dancing like peasants do? I’ve expected better from you.’

Tim doesn’t reply to that. He knows he’ll make it worse if he does, so he keeps his head down.

It works, and Ra’s just sighs.

‘You could still join my League. I’m sure you’d find more comfort in my palace, and I’m sure there would be plenty for you to do.’

Tim is so tired of saying ‘no’ to that. Tim doesn’t know what Ra’s would have him do, and he doesn’t want to find out.

‘I’ll stick to our agreement, I think,’ Tim says in a voice weak and apologetic, and he hates himself for it. ‘I’ll triple the amount of money for the next month.’

Ra’s sighs, annoyed, but does not endeavor to continue the conversation that they’ve had so many times already. 

The man nods at Tim, dismissing him without a word.

‘Do not disappoint me, boy,’ he adds as Tim walks towards the door.

‘I won’t,’ Tim replies, his voice sounding much more confident than he feels.

***

Tim wanders the night streets a little, to shake the uneasy, disgusting feeling off him. So far, the wandering only helps with catching his breath and erasing the smell of the strong, spicy perfume that got stuck to his clothes.

It’s getting cold, and Tim’s not sure how long has passed since he’d left the inn, so he goes back. The crowd that was at the dance has dissipated and the musicians are no longer there. Tim wonders about how late it is, and if Kon’s left with some blonde and will not be in their shared room.

He almost hopes Kon had, but when he stumbles into the room, the blankets on the bed on the right move, obviously occupied.

‘Stray?’ Conner murmurs in a sleepy voice.

‘Sleep!’ Tim snaps.

He doesn’t know why he’s suddenly so angry, but he is. He pushes his belongings to the floor and flops on his bed.

It’s cold. The mattress is unpleasantly coarse and the air is stuffy. Tim suffers through approximately five minutes of it before he can’t bear it any longer.

He shoots up from the bed like it’s on fire, goes to the window and opens it, to let some fresh air in. He still feels like the spicy perfume is stuck to his clothes, so he takes off his jacket and his leather pants and throws them to the floor. His mind won’t rest, and he paces around the room, dressed in only his underwear. 

The room is tiny, so his pacing brings him toward Kon’s bed.

Kon stirs a little - in the dim light of the moon, Tim thinks he can see the man open his eyes.

There’s a split second for Tim to decide, and Tim doesn’t let himself dwell on it for too long. He simply tells Kon to move and climbs into the bed beside him.

This bed is better. _This_ bed is warm and doesn’t smell like anything else but Kon.

‘It's cold,’ Tim explains, not even sure why he does it.

‘Kay,’ Kon mumbles behind him, his voice desperately sleepy.

That bulk of a man shifts behind Tim - it’s quite obvious that on the single bed there’s not enough space for the both of them, but Kon is desperately trying to make some for Tim.

‘Tm, can I,’ Kon starts, but is interrupted by a yawn. 

After a long moment, he tries again.

‘Can I put my hands on you?’ he tries, and Tim starts fuming and is about to leap out of the bed, when Kon adds, ‘No. Wrong word. My arms? Around? Can I put my arms around you?’

Conner is desperately sleepy and that saves him from Tim’s wrath. 

‘Said you cold?’ Kon explains, trying to fill in the silence, ‘ll be warmer that way. And, space. More space like that?’

Kon is so desperately lost when he’s sleepy that Tim almost finds it endearing. He takes too long to contemplate what that thought means, and Kon reads it wrong.

‘I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to,’ Kon says, the sentence surprisingly complex and somber for his current state.

That admission makes Tim feel soft inside, the feeling he can’t begin to describe seizing him.

‘Okay,’ he says, his voice suddenly hoarse. ‘You can.’ 

As soon as Kon puts his arms around him, warmth engulfs Tim. He hadn’t ever realized how cold he was, before Kon pulled him close to his chest. Without thinking twice about it, Tim entangles his legs with Kon’s. The ex-prince murmurs something soothing into his ear, stroking Tim’s palm with his thumb.

Tim feels a little bit like crying.

He doesn’t cry, and he stays awake for longer than he wants to, until eventually sleep takes him.

***

When Kon wakes up, he’s alone. He looks around, trying to understand if he’s dreamed up Tim joining him in his bed. Tim’s bed is untouched and he’s nowhere to be seen. His bag is missing, too.

Kon sighs. He should’ve known better than to hope that Tim would stay.

Kon gets up, puts on his clothes slowly. He takes some time just to simply breathe, to look out of the window and watch the morning crowd outside.

Then, he walks down the stairs and to the inn’s hall, hoping to have some breakfast with Bart.

And there, at a table in the corner, he sees Tim.

Tim, who looks pained, as Bart talks up a storm.

‘Make it stop,’ Tim begs him, when Kon walks up to the table. ‘Please, I can take this no longer.’

Kon laughs, and mirth comes easy. Bart answers in turn and runs up to hug him, happy to see the smile on his friend’s face.

It seems like a fine day is upon them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know when I update next, but who knows what happens in 2020, just know this - I will not abandon this fic.  
> Thank you for being patient with me
> 
> Please comment to support your starving for external validation creator

**Author's Note:**

> I am not sure how long this fic is going to be, but there's a lot to tell.  
> Make sure to subscribe to it to get the updates!
> 
> Pls remember that fanfic writers' only way to survival is reading your delightful comments.
> 
> If you're new, there's really a lot of timkon fics I've written (it's very possible you've read some) and also, here's [ my tmblr](http://unluckyloki.tumblr.com/)


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